Fallen, Book 3: Missing Girls and Mystery Monsters
by The Urban Spaceman
Summary: Determined to help humanity even as it teeters on the brinks of apocalyptic destruction, Avariel teams up with a family of Hunters—the Carver siblings—to find a college student whose disappearance suggests something out of the ordinary.
1. The Student

_Author's Note: Next instalment delivered as promised, SyfyGuy2  
_

* * *

 _ **Fallen**_

 _ **Book 3:**_ _ **Missing Girls and Mystery Monsters**_

Chapter 1

 _\- The Student -_

It was not difficult to find the Carver siblings, even though they were travelling at the speed limit on a wide country road at night. Ava arrived in their vehicle, which Katie knew as an RV or a campervan, and remained invisible to their eyes whilst she looked around. There was only one bed in the van, a narrow cot which doubled as a seat and a storage box when its lid and mattress were lifted. Glancing through the wood of the bed, she saw a healthy supply of different weapons inside, their type and style common to most hunters' collections. The rest of the van was a combination of generic normalcy, (a small gas stove and grill, a tiny television, and one of the dreaded microwave machines, along with a flushable toilet and sink in a separate back room) and hunter-specific paraphernalia (bottles of holy water, rosary beads, stakes of various different woods, drying herbs hanging from the roof, books about myths and monster lore, and newspaper clippings, photographs and crime reports taped up over every vertical surface of the van).

The siblings were sitting in the front of the vehicle, with one of the twins— Pippin, Ava saw—driving. There was also an argument in progress.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take over for a while?" Merry asked.

"You're a terrible driver," Pippin replied amicably.

"It's not my fault these idiots do everything back to front," Merry huffed. "I mean, what kind of a moron puts a steering wheel on the left side?"

"A moron who drives on the right-hand side of the road," Danny replied.

"Exactly," Merry said. "Americans are so uncivilised."

"Riiight," Pippin said, rolling her eyes at her younger brother. "Because the historic reasons for driving on the left side of the road are so very civilised."

"Of course they are," Merry agreed. She ignored her sister's sarcastic tone. "The right hand is the sword-arm, so it only makes sense that you ride your horse on the left and fight with your right. And very sensibly, the same rules of the road applied when cars were invented. Driving on the right is for left-handed barbarians."

Ava, crouching in the back of the van, approached the front seat from behind, and manifested fully. It only took a few seconds for her presence to be noticed; the next time Pippin checked her rear-view mirror, she saw the angel, let out a squeak of surprise, and sent the vehicle briefly into the opposite lane before regaining control. Luckily there was nothing coming the other way, and she slammed on the brakes right in the middle of the road.

"What the hell?" she demanded, turning her head to look at Ava. "Where did you come from?"

"Japan," she replied.

"What are you doing in our van?" Merry asked, scowling at the newcomer.

"I wished to talk to you of what happened in Knott," Ava said calmly. Why were these people reacting so angrily to her presence? Bobby had never been angry with her like this. Irritated, at times, but never angry. And though Sam and Dean didn't entirely trust her, they tolerated her. She would have thought that people—hunters especially—would be glad for the presence of an angel.

"Oh, that. Well, don't worry. We salted and burned the body, and buried the remains."

"You missed an awesome show, though," Pippin grinned. "After that witch bled enough, all this energy came out of him, all purple and black, straight up into the clouds. An hour later the sky went grey and it rained. As in, natural rain."

"Why did you disappear, Avariel?" Danny asked. "Pip and Merry told me what happened. Why didn't you stay to say goodbye?"

"I am not very good at saying goodbye," she admitted. "Angels never say goodbye to each other."

"Well, you want to say goodbye now?" Merry asked.

"No, we have business to discuss." She looked out of the rear window. "Though you may wish to move your vehicle, there is a truck coming, and I do not think the driver will appreciate you blocking the road."

"There's a layby up ahead," Pippin said. "I'll pull in there."

The vehicle rolled into motion once more, and when they reached the rest stop, the young woman pulled over and put on the hand brake. Then she turned in her seat, as did Merry and Danny.

"What do you want?" Merry asked bluntly.

"Dylan, the witch I killed," Ava said, "spoke of when he and his friends read from a magic book and summoned a demon. I believe his friends may be performing similar spells, doing things to aid the demons and the apocalypse. I wish to stop them, but I will need your help."

"Why do you need us?" Pippin asked. "Can you just... you know... zap them with your angel powers?"

"My 'angel powers' don't work like that. I can't just 'zap' somebody. I need to find these witches and put a stop to them as I did Dylan. Unfortunately, since he is dead, I can hardly question him on the identity of the other members of his coven."

"How can we help?" Danny asked. "I mean... you're an angel. If you can't find them, how can we?"

"Danny," Merry said, a tone of warning in her voice.

"C'mon, Mer," he replied. "She saved your lives, after all. And she's an _angel_."

"Allegedly."

"I am indeed an angel," Ava replied, though she suspected it wouldn't do much good. Merry seemed determined to remain suspicious.

"How about you tell us what you want from us, Avariel," Pippin said, "and we'll tell you if it's do-able?"

Merry scowled at her sister's suggestion, but she did not object.

"Very well," Ava began. "I believe Dylan's family may know the identity of some of his friends, but I can hardly question them myself, as they know me and will be suspicious that I disappeared at the same time as him. Presuming, of course, the body hasn't been found. If it has, they may even suspect me in his murder."

"Seems like a long shot," Merry said dismissively.

"But it's the only shot I have. Even if the family know nothing, if you can learn from them which college he attended, I may be able to find further information there."

"Why don't you know what college he attended already? I mean, he was your boyfriend, wasn't he?"

"No," she replied, frowning at the implication. "I am an angel. I have no interest in pursuing relationships—physical or otherwise—with humans. During my stay in Knott, I became familiar with several of the people there, and Dylan was but one of them. Let me put it this way; the sooner I learn the identity of the witches, the sooner I will be gone from your presence."

Merry and Pippin looked at each other, whilst Danny watched them, an expression of pleading in his blue eyes. Eventually, Pippin sighed.

"Alright. We're on a job at the moment, but as soon as it's done, we'll look into your thing for you."

"Thank you. What job are you on?"

"A young woman's gone missing from her room in the halls of residence at Saginaw Valley State University," Danny said.

"And you suspect foul play? Of the demonic kind, I mean?" she asked.

"Demons, or something else," Pippin said. "She didn't go missing. She was taken."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well," Danny said, reaching into the glove box of the van and bringing out a small portfolio, "several of her fellow students saw her enter her room the night she disappeared. Nobody heard anything, or saw anything, but the halls are smack bang in the middle of campus. When she didn't turn up for class, her friends called campus security, who had to unlock the door to gain entry—it had been locked from the inside. They found her bed a mess, and a window open, and signs of a struggle. But that window was on the second floor so nobody human was getting in there and taking her out of the window without making a noise."

"Not unless they had a ladder and chloroform," Merry said.

"What do you know about the missing woman?" Ava asked.

Danny handed her a newspaper clipping, and then summed it up for her as well. "Kayleigh Rebecca Sumner, nineteen years old, in her first year of an undergraduate program in chemical physics. Described by her friends as 'happy, fun-loving and studious'. She's got a family in Detroit; both parents, two sisters, both of them younger. Last time they spoke to her was by phone, about three days before her disappearance. Last person to see her on campus was her class-mate Celia Lowe. Says she said goodnight to Kayleigh at eleven o'clock, and nobody's seen her since. The police have no suspects and no clues."

"Was Kayleigh involved in anything suspicious?"

"What, you mean like a secret dark satanic society?"

"Yes."

"No, nothing that anybody's aware of. She's a member of the university's chem club, but there's nothing dark or satanic about that."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Ava told him. "Chemistry is a direct successor of alchemy, and many alchemists were little more than educated witches and warlocks who thought they could find the secret to immortality without having to deal with a demon to do it."

"Um... right. Well, I'm fairly certain Kayleigh wasn't an alchemist. Just... you know... a science nerd."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. Then, she made a decision. "I will help you with this case."

"We don't need your help," said Merry immediately. "You'll only get in our way."

"Then I'll investigate the matter on my own."

She teleported out of the van as Merry tried to object further, and arrived in room F226, which she had read in the newspaper article belonged to Kayleigh Sumner before her disappearance. As soon as she arrived she opened herself up to anything paranormal, and got... nothing. There was no sign that a demon had been here. No sign of a ghost. And when she searched the room she found no hex-bag, which ruled out witchcraft.

There were photographs around the mirror of the desk, pictures of blonde-haired Kayleigh and her family, pictures of the girl with her friends, and there was nothing at all out of the ordinary about them. A pad of paper on the desk held only chemistry notes, though Ava double-checked them just to make sure there was nothing alchemical or satanic about them. There wasn't.

Opening the top drawer of the desk, she rifled through but found only pens, pencils, and other items of stationery. The second drawer held makeup, hair ties and a hairbrush, but nothing else of interest. The last drawer was full of uni books, but none of them held anything of import between their pages. There was a space on the desk where a laptop had been sitting, but it was gone now; taken by the police as evidence, she suspected.

Just as she was about to give the task up as useless, she heard a sound in the corner of the room. A hamster in a barred cage had been woken by the noise she made, and it had started running in its wheel. Ava walked to the cage and opened the door, calling out for the hamster. It stopped, wrinkled its nose at her, then scurried onto her hand, sitting still on her palm. Closing her eyes, she touched its tiny mind, taking it back to the night Kayleigh had disappeared.

 _A breeze as the window was opened from the outside. A smell. Musty. Cold. A sound like old paper rustling. Fear, terrible, primal, instinctive fear. The hamster scurried back into its plastic house, where it felt safe. It heard a commotion. Somebody being silenced and restrained. More of the sound, and then silence._

 _Thank you,_ she said to the tiny animal, putting it back in its cage and letting it resume its short life. After closing the cage door she went to the window, and examined it. The lock was undamaged, so Kayleigh must have left it unlocked. She probably thought that, being on the second floor, she would be safe. But other than the lock, there was nothing of interest about the window. At least, not this side of it.

She looked down at the bare ground directly below the window and teleported into that space. Again, there were no signs of demonic activity, but as she looked around, she found something. It was a piece of translucent, scaled skin; a partial cast from a snake. This cast, however, seemed unnaturally large; it was bigger than her hand. This job was getting more and more curious by the minute. She put the dry slough skin in her bag, and teleported back to the rear of the van, which was a few miles closer to Saginaw now, but still several hours away.

"I agree with you, Danny," Ava said, making all of the humans jump in surprise. "It would seem something unnatural _did_ befall Kayleigh Sumner."

"What did you find?" Pippin asked, her eyes firmly on the road.

"If I told you, that would be 'working with you'," she replied. "I thought you didn't want that?"

"Look," Merry said, sounding defeated, "we don't want to work with you, but you're obviously just going to get in the way and do your own thing anyway. So you can work with us on this job. Then we'll get that info for you. After that, we're done. Agreed?"

"As you wish," Ava nodded. There were, after all, plenty of people who needed her help. People who might actually be grateful for it.

"So, tell us what you found."

"No EMF, no sulphur, no hex-bag."

"It's been days since Kayleigh disappeared," Pippin said. "Traces of EMF or sulphur would have faded by now."

"I'd still detect them," she replied. "Angels are much more sensitive to such things than your primitive equipment."

"So I guess that rules out demons, ghosts and witches," Danny said. "Can't be a werewolf, either; the lunar cycle isn't right. Vampire, maybe? They're more discerning about their victims than a lot of other monsters. They like to pick them personally."

"Possible, but unlikely," Ava told him. "Vampires do not usually leave this behind." She opened her bag and handed the skin to Danny, who turned it over in his hands before handing it to Merry. Pippin glanced at it briefly, before turning her eyes back to the road.

"Where'd you get this?" Merry asked.

"Outside the victim's window."

"Huh. This is a new one for us. Do you know of anything that could leave this behind, Avariel?"

"A very large snake," she said, pleased with her logical deduction.

"So our working theory is that Kayleigh Sumner was eaten by somebody's escaped boa constrictor?"

"No, whatever it was, it opened the window from the outside, so it must have hands. And it stayed for only a few minutes; long enough to subdue and take Kayleigh Sumner, but not long enough to consume her."

"Gross," said Danny, sounding briefly like a typical American teen despite his marked British accent. "How do you even know that?"

"There was a hamster in Kayleigh's room, so I reviewed its observation of that night and—"

"What, you can read minds?" he asked. He sounded excited about the prospect. Why did humans always get excited about the idea of telepathy?

"Human minds? No," she told him. "Otherwise I would have known Dylan was a witch. But I can read the minds of animals. Though perhaps 'read minds' is not the right term. I can form a psychic connection to the mind of an animal, and use that to tap into their senses, emotions and memories, or to issue commands, or—"

"I get it," he said, holding up his hand to stall her litany. "So what did Boo show you about that night?"

"Boo?" she asked. "I don't think that was the hamster's name. It responded to 'Charlie'."

He shook his head. "Forget it, not important."

"Very well. The hamster conveyed a feeling of fear. Also a smell of musty coldness. This is in-keeping with the snake theme, as snakes are a natural predator of hamsters. In particular, several species of venomous—"

"So," Merry interrupted, before Ava could tell them about the venomous species of snakes that preyed upon the small rodents. "Know of anything snake-like that sheds it skin, has arms, and can steal a girl from the middle of a populated campus without being seen or heard?"

Ava gave it a moment of thought, then offered up the only suggestion she could think of. "Kukulkan."

"The Mayan feathered serpent god?" Danny asked in disbelief. "That's actually _real_?"

"Yes, very real. Though he rarely leaves the jungle. I wonder what he's doing all the way here in Michigan," she mused quietly. "Or why he's abducted this particular girl. It's all very strange."

"How can Kukulkan be real? I thought there was only one God. Don't you serve him?"

"Yes, of course," she replied. "But the pagan gods are very real. And quite vindictive at times."

"But... but how can monotheism and polytheism both exist at the same time?"

"Because of human belief," she said. Humans seemed not to understand the power of their own belief, at times. It was as if they were oblivious to it. How did they think gods got their power?

"You mean... we make our own gods?"

"In a sense, yes. Some of them existed as supernatural beings before the dawn of humanity, and became more powerful when people began to worship them as spirits, and then gods. Others are formed entirely by the belief of humans, imbued with the power of faith."

"But... what about God? I mean, the God you serve?"

"My Father is real," she assured him confidently. "He is the creator of all. Heaven. Earth. The universe. He made angels, and he made humans. Through him were the other gods given flesh and form. Had he wanted them gone, he would have destroyed them, so I believe he must have some purpose for them."

"Can we skip the theology lesson?" Merry asked. "This isn't getting us any closer to finding Kayleigh."

"I think it's kinda interesting," Pippin replied. "Hey, Avariel, what's Heaven like?"

"It is a place where good souls go after they die, where they can exist in eternal happiness."

"Potted plants and all," Merry grumbled quietly.

"And why are you here, on Earth, now?" asked Pippin.

"To stop the apocalypse, of course."

"Can it be stopped?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't think it could."

"But you don't know for sure?"

"Nobody knows for sure. Not even angels."

"And where have you been until now?" Merry asked. "During all the wars, all the murders, the genocide?"

"Mostly in Heaven."

"And you never thought about coming down here to help out? To stop the suffering?"

"Do you have children, Meredith?" Ava asked quietly, angered by the girl's words.

"No."

"Imagine that you do. Imagine that your child is playing in his bedroom with his toys. And you tell him 'play nicely with your toys, and clean them away when you've finished'. But the child does not play nicely; he throws his toys around, smashing them up. And he fights with other children, for their toys. He turns his bedroom into a mess. Then he whines at you, and complains that it isn't fair, and demands that you fix his toys and clean up the mess he has made. Would you?" Merry said nothing, so Ava decided to drive her point home. "We are not the servants of petulant children. Humans were given rules to live by, and you broke those rules, turning to sin and vice. You were told 'Thou shalt not murder.' And yet you do. Many of my brothers would sit back and watch this world cleansed of humanity. Be thankful that I am here to try to stop it, and do not act like an ungrateful child in my presence again."

o - o - o - o - o

Ava was so angered by the words of the foolish girl, that she immediately teleported at random, and found herself high upon a hill, surrounded by the ruins of an ancient civilisation. Green mountains were all around, and to the east, a dense canopy of forest stretching off over the horizon. She walked amongst the ruins of Machu Picchu, listening to the sounds of night-insects and a colony of monkeys living nearby as she dwelt on what Merry had said.

Gabriel had been right. Humans _did_ think the universe revolved around them... though quite how the universe was supposed to revolve around _anything_ was a mystery to her. She was fairly sure, though, that getting angry was not the best way she could have dealt with the situation. After all, she was dealing with people who were nothing more than ignorant children. Since the moment they had developed the ability to think and reason logically, they had told themselves that they alone were special. That they had been picked out and raised up by God or evolution, singled out and placed at the top of the evolutionary ladder. In fact, they were just one branch of that evolutionary chain, and it wasn't even a chain that was complete. Evolution did not stop just because it found a 'clever' species. Her Father had not made it to do that. But the humans, in their pride, thought that they were the ultimate creation. The end result of everything. How arrogant and mistaken they were.

Unfortunately, regardless of their arrogance, she needed these particular humans to help her with her task. Although she could of course go to Bobby and request his assistance, she wanted to prove to herself that she could do something without him, that she was not reliant on any one person to survive. Gabriel would probably call her stubborn but she didn't care. She had to do this. She had to stop the witches. It was her responsibility.

When the sun began to crest over the hills, she decided it was time to return to her task. She located the RV in a parking lot in Saginaw, and teleported there immediately. Danny was in the van, lying on his front on the small bed as he worked a laptop, and as soon as she arrived he sat bolt upright and backed into the wall of the van, his eyes wide in fright.

"Please don't smite me," he said.

"I'm not going to smite you," she replied.

"Are you going to smite Merry?"

"No, I'm not that kind of angel."

"But... you killed that witch, right? My sisters told me what happened. He flattened them, destroyed the potion, and you wasted him without even breaking a sweat."

"That was different. I don't smite ordinary humans."

"Well that's... good to know," he said, and relaxed a little on the bed. "So... uh... how can I help you?"

"I must find the missing girl."

"Ah, yeah, right. You need to find her so we can help you with that witch thing."

"No, I need to find her because she is missing, and she may be in trouble. Where are your sisters?"

"They went to check out the crime scene."

"And they left you here alone?"

"Yeah. They usually do. I find the cases, I do the research, they get to have all the fun."

She glanced at his laptop. "Have you learnt anything more about the case?"

"Not yet." He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "I've been trying to ID this monster for the past four hours, and I can't come up with anything better than Kukulkan. But I really, really hope it isn't him, because Mayans were pretty big on human sacrifice, right?"

"That's right. We need to find her, and quickly."

"But there's one thing I don't understand," he continued. "I've looked at the history of Mayan sacrifice, but it seems to be predominantly animal sacrifice, and blood-letting or self-mutilation. When they sacrificed humans, it was usually to ward off the ill-effects of something like a disease, or to consecrate a new temple. And most of the time, when they needed to sacrifice people, they sacrificed prisoners. So it doesn't really sound like this kidnapping is the Mayan M.O."

She looked at the boy. He'd spent years reading books, researching things on his computer... he might be as valuable a resource as the sisters, she realised. "You're right," she told him. "Your research is quite correct. Kukulkan was only my best guess. My only guess, in fact. I know of no other monster that would fit the established criteria. Do you think you could use your computer to determine if anybody else has gone missing recently?"

"Already on it," he said. "I'm running a search of local newspapers for missing persons reports, and I'm working on a hack into the local P.D. mainframe." He gave her a nervous look. "The last part is... um... slightly illegal. I won't go to Hell for that, will I?"

"Man's law is not God's law," she assured him with a smile. "If your actions can help us solve this mystery, then you need not fear divine retribution. Just... try not to get caught."

"Huh. You're pretty cool," he grinned. "I'm sorry about my sisters... especially Merry. She can be a bit... brusque... at times."

"It's been my observation that the average human does many things which he or she should apologise for. You should not apologise for anybody but yourself, Danny. It is not your place, or your responsibility."

"Yeah. Right. But still, I think she was out of order. My sisters might not have read the Bible, but I have. I know that angels aren't here to make us feel better. You guys are like... divine warriors, right? Every time an angel appears in the Bible, everybody falls to their knees out of fear. There must be a good reason for that."

"Yes, people in the Bible had much healthier survival instincts," she agreed. "But I promise I won't start smiting people, no matter how disrespectful they may be."

"That's a relief," he admitted. "So... what now?"

"Now I must speak with your sisters, and see if they have discovered anything new."

"Okay. So, I'll see you later, then?"

"I imagine so, yes."

Ava teleported to the halls of residence at the university, manifesting in the corner of the room near the hamster cage. Both sisters were present, and they both jumped in surprise at her entrance. Merry had the grace to look guilty—a little. Pippin closed the door of the room, so that they could speak in private.

"We didn't think you'd come back," she said.

"Yeah," Merry agreed. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said, alright? I have a bad habit of speaking before thinking, and it's gotten me in trouble more than once. I didn't mean to offend you, or imply that angels have any sort of responsibility for fixing problems of our own creation."

"Your words are forgiven," Ava said, looking around the room once more. Despite the fact that it was daytime, which allowed her to utilise visible light to observe her surroundings, she saw nothing new, and nothing worthy of note. "Have you found anything?" she asked.

"Not a damn thing," Pippin sighed. "This girl was clean."

"Yes, she appears to have possessed good personal hygiene," Ava said, observing the cleanliness of the room. It had obviously been tidied and dusted on a regular basis.

"That's not what I mean. We talked to some of Kayleigh's friends, asked a few questions, to see if we could come up with a suspect or a motive. We found nothing at all. Kayleigh was a nice girl. Studious. Quiet. Most kids, when they hit college and university, they live the wild party life. Kayleigh only went out on Saturday nights... seems she knew how to pace herself."

"And you did not find a single person who might wish her harm?"

"Not one," said Merry. "Checked for the usual; jealous classmates and spurned lovers. Turns out Kayleigh had neither. Seems she was rocking the whole 'virgin' scene. Couldn't even find a pissed-off ex-BF frustrated over not getting to... whichever base Americans call sex."

"That in itself may indicate motive," Ava told them. "There are spells and rituals which involve the blood of a virgin or the sacrifice of a virgin. Perhaps that's why she was targeted, despite being housed on the second floor."

"Not a bad deduction," Pippin said, with grudging respect. "Are we still rolling with the Kukulkan theory?"

"No. Before coming here I visited your van, and Danny brought up the inconsistencies between this situation and Mayan sacrifices. I do not know what we are dealing with."

"How can you not know? You're an angel, aren't you? Shouldn't you... y'know... know everything?"

"You humans have an inaccurate understanding of what angels are like," she told the girl.

"Well," Merry said, "I think we've learnt all we can from this room. Would you show us where exactly you found the skin last night?"

"Of course," she replied, and lifted her hands to teleport the twins.

Merry stopped her by stepping back, and raising one hand defensively. "Wait a minute. You can't just go teleporting people around places. It will raise suspicions if Kayleigh's dorm-mates saw the girl's two British cousins enter the room, but not leave it. Just give us a few minutes to finish up here, and we'll meet you down there, okay?"

The girl raised a good point, Ava decided. She had never really considered before, but it _would_ appear a little... incongruous to any witnesses. Humans beings were not naturally capable of teleporting by themselves. Perhaps she should have thought of this earlier. "Very well," she agreed, and took herself out of the room, down to the ground below the window. She passed the time by watching a ladybird crawl up a blade of grass, and hummed to herself a tune that Katie had sung as a child.

 _Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire and your children are gone. All except one, and that_ _'s little Anne, for she hid under the frying pan._

When the insect reached the top of the grass stem, it spread its wings and flew away, looking to find food, or a mate, or one of the other myriad things that animals needed.

The door of the halls of residence opened and the twins stepped out into the sunshine, shielding their eyes from the harsh glare of the midday light. Ava did not have that problem; she merely reduced her eyes' capacity to process visible light. It was an easy enough thing to do, if you weren't a human being limited by your own biology.

"Alright, where did you find the skin?" Merry asked.

"Right there," said Ava, pointing to the place where she had noticed the translucent slough.

Both girls spent several minutes looking around the area, for other signs of skin, or perhaps possible tracks. Ava did not bother to tell them she had already done just that, and with much more efficiency, since she could process not only visible light, but infrared, ultraviolet, and a whole host of other radiation types which were undetectable to human beings. It seemed as if the girls needed to use their own eyes, their own senses, to interpret their world. It was then she was struck by a profound, philosophical thought. Humans made their own world. They could not see or hear a full spectrum, as an angel could. So each human lived on his or her own Earth, determined by how much of it they could perceive. It was one of the things which made them unique. Angels all saw things the same. Even grigori, who could observe many things at once, only saw what other angels saw. But humans all saw things differently.

"I've got nothing," Pippin said at last.

"Me neither," Merry sighed. "I suppose the only thing we can do now is get back to Danny, and see if he's had any luck identifying this thing." She slapped the side of the building in frustration. "A whole campus full of students, and bloody nothing. CCTV on the corner of every building, and bloody nothing. If only we had a single witness!"

"We do," Ava reminded her. "Charlie, the hamster."

"Yeah. No offence Avariel, but that doesn't really help us. What are we going to do with an eye-witness account from a hamster's point of view? Put out an APB on a funky smell?"

"As you wish," she replied. She extended her celestial presence from her body, reaching out with her consciousness, touching the minds of all the animals around the campus. They were legion; rats in the sewers, blackbirds in the trees, bats in the rafters, cats in the frat houses, dogs chained in yards, owls sleeping in their roosts, rabbits caged in their hutches, mice hiding in wall cavities... and those were just a small selection of the minds available to her. She conveyed to each of them the rustling sound of leathery paper, the smell of something old and musty, the sense of coldness and fear.

"What are you doing?" Pippin asked worriedly. "And why are your eyes... silver?"

"I am putting out an APB on whatever took Kayleigh Sumner from her bed. And my eyes are silver because that is what colour they are." When she was certain her message had been conveyed, she withdrew fully back into her vessel, and felt her eyes turn to blue once more. "There are thousands of animals in the immediate area," she explained. "And each of them have senses which can pick up scents and sounds barely perceivable by humans. There must be more creatures than Charlie with knowledge of this foe."

"So you just put a message out on the Twilight Bark?" Merry asked.

"I don't believe I'm familiar with that term. It's not a reference to that terrible vampire film, is it?" Ava asked her. "I firmly believe that making vampires into sparkly brooding heroes will only end badly for many teenage girls."

"Uh... no. Think of it as an animal APB."

"Then yes, I put a message out on the Twilight Bark. It may take some time for results to emerge. I suggest we see what your brother has come up with."

"Alright," Pippin said. "Let's check in with Danny, then maybe—"

Ava teleported all three of them to the outside of the RV, and the twins wobbled a little as they found their land-legs again.

"Will you stop bloody doing that!" Merry swore as she put a steadying hand on the side of the van.

"Why?" Ava asked. She couldn't imagine why anybody would have a problem with teleportation. It was the most efficient way to get from place to place, and unless she attempted to teleport through time, it was barely draining at all. There wasn't anything wrong with being efficient, was there?

"Because," Merry said, "you can't just keep jumping to the end of a chapter. You have to read the whole thing."

"You... wish to experience the ennui of walking from one point in space to another?"

"Yes. Walking gives us humans time to think about things. To process stuff and to talk to each other. If you just go zapping somebody around the whole damn world, how do you expect them to adjust and have chance to mentally absorb everything that's going on?"

"I don't understand. I merely transported us approximately one kilometer. What do you think may have happened during that time?" she asked, now thoroughly confused.

Merry sighed. "I can't do it. I can't explain philosophy to an angel. Pippin, you try."

"Well," the other twin spoke up, "it's like this, Avariel. A lot of people... a lot of humans... think of life as a destination. A goal to be achieved. And as long as they get from here to there, they don't care about what happens in the middle. It's just fluff, to them. But you can't just read the beginning of a story, and the end of a story, and claim to know what it's all about. Life is more than just a beginning and an end. It's more than just a destination. It's about the journey. Because not everybody reaches their destination, but if they've had a great journey, and walked the good paths, then the ending doesn't matter."

"I understand," she said. "This is Zen." In Pippin's words she recognised something; it was the second lesson she had learnt, since leaving the monastery. Now, she recounted both lessons to herself. _One: By our perceptions we make our own world. Two: Life is not a destination, but a journey._ Perhaps, she reasoned, she should write these things down. But for the moment, she had more pressing concerns. "Should we see what Danny has come up with?"

"Good idea," Merry said, reaching for the door. She pulled it open and stepped inside the RV, followed by Ava, then Pippin, who closed the door after her. It was a tight fight, with four people in the back of the van, but the twins wedged themselves against the back of the front seats, and Ava sat down on a locked trunk.

"Find anything at the scene?" Danny asked from the bed, as they attempted to make themselves comfortable.

"Nada," said Pippin. "What have you found?"

"Very little, I'm afraid," he sighed. "There have been a few missing persons reports filed with the police, but all except Kayleigh have turned up safe and well. One guy was in hospital, a woman got drunk and spent the night in an alley, and a kid turned up at a friend's house after running away from home. No abductions and nothing shady."

"What about our mystery monster?" Merry asked.

"Exhausted every monster-identifying resource at my disposal. Checked the books, checked the websites, even anonymously emailed a couple of other hunters just in case they'd heard of anything. In the end I got desperate, and asked google."

"What is 'google'?" Ava asked.

"Well," Danny said, "it's basically the God of search engines."

"Google is a God? Is it pagan?"

"Uh... no. It's a computer thing. But it has the answer to pretty much everything you can think of. Here, look." He turned his laptop around to her and typed in .

"Interesting," she said, fascinated by the idea of a computer having all the answers. "Ask it where God is."

"Err... what?"

"God. One of my brothers is looking for our Father. It may help him if your google-god can tell us where the real God is."

"Did you... um... check Heaven?" Danny asked, looking both amused and confused.

"Yes, he's not there, and hasn't been for some time."

"You _lost_ God?" Merry snorted.

"Of course not. God is not lost. We just don't know where he is." She leant forward and addressed the laptop, speaking in a clear voice. "Please tell me the location of God." She waited for a moment, but nothing changed. "I do not think this deity is as powerful as you claim. Personally, I would take the Oracle of Delphi over this 'google' any day."

"Google doesn't know where God is," Merry said firmly. She turned to her brother. "Danny, did you have _any_ luck at all?"

"Yeah. I got one possible match. Here, have a look at this."

He handed the laptop over to his sister, who began to read aloud from the screen.

"Yuan-Ti are a feared and venomous serpent race, descendant of the prehistoric reptilian creator race, the Sarrukh. Heirs of an ancient fallen empire and considering themselves the apex of sentient species, their ultimate goal is to restore their domain on Faerûn, serving as leaders and guides of all other races. Play a Yuan-Ti if you want... One, to be serpentine. Two, to be sly, cunning and deadly. Three, to be a member of an adaptable and skillfull race with affinity to poison. Four, to be a member of a race that favors the Rogue, Ranger, Fighter, Barbarian, Wizard, and Warlock classes." She looked up at her brother, an expression of disgust on her face. "Danny, this is a Dungeons and Dragons wiki page."

"I said quack, and google said duck," he shrugged. "Go back a page, and click on images. There, you see? The Yuan-Ti are, essentially, large humanoid snake monsters with arms and enough intelligence to work a window latch."

"Danny. Dungeons and Dragons isn't real. It's make-believe. A group of fantasy nerds invented it."

"Maybe so, but the only other thing that google returns on a search for 'monster snake' or 'snake man' is tales of a large prehistoric boa-constrictor species in the Amazon, and a whole lot of male pornographic images that are probably going to scar me for life."

"Tulpa?" Pippin suggested. "With enough people thinking about it, perhaps this Yuan-Ti thing has materialised from their thoughts."

"Doubtful," said Merry. "If D&D nerds were behind this, we'd most likely be dealing with Elves, Dwarves or Orcs. They're the preferred races. No, it's more likely we're dealing with something completely new."

"Oh, that's right, I forgot," Pippin grinned, a wicked gleam in her grey eyes, "you were into that stuff for a while."

"God, I went to _one_ session of table-top, and you hold it against me for the rest of my life!"

"Or maybe," Danny said, ignoring his sisters' dispute, "the Yuan-Ti _were_ real, once. Perhaps they survived as nothing but a verbal legend, and some nerd just decided to make them a monster in a game. What if it's not something _new_ we're dealing with, but something really, really _old_?"

"Well there's a pleasant thought," Pippin said. "Old things should just know well enough to stay gone."

"Hey Avariel, do you think Kukulkan could be a Yuan-Ti?" Danny asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Let me see the pictures." Merry handed her the laptop, and she looked at a few of the images. Then she shook her head, and handed the computer back to the boy. "No, Kukulkan looks nothing like this. He is much more feathered."

"As entertaining as this speculation is," said Pippin, "it doesn't help us to find Kayleigh."

"Maybe it does," said Danny. "I've been thinking. Snakes are cold-blooded, right? And we're hardly in a southern climate here. So maybe these Yuan-Ti things have to hole up somewhere warm. If they're exothermic, like real reptiles, maybe they can't generate their own heat."

Merry closed her eyes, her forehead creasing as she frowned in thought. Then she opened her eyes, and looked at her siblings. "Alright. Danny, see what you can find online. I want locations of anywhere that could possibly generate heat. Landfill sites, natural hot springs, geothermal vents... whatever you can find. And plot their locations on a map, relative to the campus building where Kayleigh disappeared. Pippin, load a couple of revolvers, one with iron rounds, one with silver, then sharpen a couple of knives. I refuse to believe we've hunting a monster from a bloody Dungeons and Dragons manual, but just in case, that wiki page said they can be hacked into bite-sized chunks, and I want to be ready for when we've got a location."

"Do you have a task for me?" Ava asked.

"You... just do whatever it is angels do," Merry replied. "I'm going to nip out and get us a bite to eat. I'll be back soon. Try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

"You wouldn't think she's the younger twin," Pippin scoffed, as the van door closed behind the departing Merry.

"She reminds me of another hunter I know," Ava said, thinking of the headstrong, and sometimes difficult to deal with, Dean Winchester.

"You know many hunters?"

"A few, personally. Others by association or observation."

"You wanna help me plot the map, Ava?" Danny asked. "Can I call you Ava?"

"You may," she nodded. "But I believe you will plot your map faster without me getting in your way. I will stand outside and reflect on the complexity of life."

"Is that what angels do?" asked Pippin. She picked up a whetstone and began running a blade across it.

"It's what I do."

 _\- o -_


	2. No Way to Urn a Living

_**Fallen**_

 _ **Book 3:**_ _ **Missing Girls and Mystery Monsters**_

Chapter 2

 _\- No Way to Urn a Living -_

Ava looked around the car park, at the shiny vehicles parked in the bays. Cars were such damaging things. Was this truly the best method humans could come up with for travelling over long distances? Cars were, by their very nature, destructive. They hurt the environment. They hurt people, if they got hit by them. Roads had to be built for them, roads which paved over grass, which trees were torn down to make room for, which ran like a nest of ugly dark serpents across the land.

"Are you sure you don't want a sandwich, Ava?" Danny called from inside the RV.

"I don't require food," she replied.

"So you never eat?"

"On occasion, yes. I like chocolate icecream, and garlic bread."

"I got a question for you, Ava," Merry said. "If God's not in Heaven, who's giving you orders?"

"The arch-angels Michael and Raphael are currently commanding the Hosts of Heaven."

"So... arch-angels sent you to Earth to stop the apocalypse?"

"Not exactly," she admitted.

"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It's complicated. And also none of your concern." The less these people knew about her situation, the less they got involved in the affairs of Heaven, the better off they would be. Besides, she hardly wanted it broadcast that she had been cast out of Heaven. It wasn't something that would endear her to them. "Just as your affairs are none of my concern."

"Alright. We'll keep it professional. That's how we like it."

Suddenly, a dog started barking in the near distance. As its barks grew louder the siblings stepped out of the van, looking around for the source of the sound. At last a large rottweiler came bounding around the corner of the parking lot, dragging its owner with it, a man who held onto the lead for dear life and yelled at his dog to stop and come to heel. The dog ignored him, making a beeline for Ava. Beside her, she glimpsed Merry and Pippin reaching for their guns.

"It's okay," she told them, as the dog reached her and threw itself against her like she was its long-lost best friend. If its tail hadn't been docked it would have been wagging, and as its owner alternated between swearing at the dog and trying to catch his breath, Ava bent down and stroked the animal's broad head. An image and a scent entered her mind, and she smiled. "Good boy. You have a lovely dog," she told the man.

"I'm so sorry about this," he said. "He's never run off like that before."

"It's no problem," she said, standing up straight. "You shouldn't have any more problems with him, now."

And indeed, as the man started to walk away, the dog followed him obediently, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"What the hell was that?" said Pippin.

"A reply to my APB," she said. "The dog has noticed the same smell from the campus in another part of town."

"That's great," Danny said. He dove into the RV and came out with a map and his laptop, sitting on the step to the vehicle as he spread the former on the ground and opened the latter on his knee. "What did it tell you?"

"A building," she said. "Not far from here. It looks like a small castle. I believe it's a museum."

"What makes you think that?" asked Merry.

"There is a sign outside which says 'Castle Museum'," she replied.

"Got it," Danny said. "It's a history museum. Mostly deals with the history of Saginaw, but they also house a few other exhibitions. Did the dog say what the Yuan-Ti was doing there?"

"Do we have to go with that name?" Merry asked in irritation.

"Would you prefer 'snake monster'?" asked Pippin. "I think Yuan-Ti is fine, until we find a better name for it. Besides, you know the rule; you discover it, you name it."

"Until we're sued for breach of copyright and plagiarism," the other twin grumbled.

"I don't know what the Yuan-Ti was doing at the museum," Ava replied. "Is it near any sources of heat?"

"Hmm... nope," said Danny.

"Maybe it took Kayleigh there," Pippin suggested.

"Hardly the most private of places," Merry said.

"The dog smelt the Yuan-Ti a couple of days before the girl went missing," Ava told them.

"I suppose it's the only lead we've got," the young woman said with a sigh. "Let's pack up and drive over there. Take a look around."

The siblings finished their sandwiches and packed up the van, the twins taking the front seat and Danny hanging in the back with Ava. He glanced at her occasionally, when he thought she wasn't watching. Of course, she was always watching, but she could not blame him for being curious. So far, the family had reacted quite well to the revelation that angels existed and were walking amongst them, but she knew they had questions. Humans _always_ had questions. For some reason, questions seemed to reassure them. Perhaps it was past time to practice her questioning skills herself.

"How did you and your sisters get into hunting?" she asked.

"Our family have always been hunters," he said. "Parents, grandparents, we go way back."

"And you lived in England?"

"Yeah, until a few months ago."

"Why did you come to America?"

"Our grandad died, and my sisters wanted a change of scenery. We heard from the Trust that there were some pretty heavy omens over here, so we decided to check it out."

"What is the Trust?"

"Every country in Europe has its hunters," Pippin said, looking over her shoulder from the front passenger seat. "Over time, they've formed a loose coalition called The Hunter's Trust. They have a headquarters in every country, and each building is run by a Keeper, a retired hunter responsible for maintaining records, collecting and recording lore, and making contacts in various different organisations which are of benefit to hunters in general."

"To what end?" Ava asked.

"Not everywhere is like America," Merry replied. "Here, you've got whole areas of nothing. Somebody going missing isn't a big deal here. The monsters can operate with far more impunity, which is why a lot of them came here in the first place. But in places like England, France, Belgium... far more populated. Harder for monsters to operate off the grid, so they become smarter, better adapted for urban attacks. And, of course, it's harder for hunters to do their jobs too. Smaller areas, more people, CCTV everywhere, not conducive to actions such as beheading vampires or digging up graveyards. The Trust works with individuals in organisations and government departments, building relationships, finding people who are in a position to, and willing to, help a hunter to be more covert. Covering up suspicious activities and that sort of thing."

"The Trust offers aid to hunters," Pippin continued. "Knowledge, supplies, fake IDs, that sort of thing. They also monitor registered hunters, keeping tabs on them, making sure they don't go rogue and start hurting people, too."

"You have to _register_ to become a hunter?" Ava asked, thinking of Dean. She was fairly certain that the eldest Winchester would never submit to operating under such restrictions. He disliked authority and authority figures, and she couldn't imagine him working with a secret society like the Trust. Things were very different, here in America. Much more... fast and loose, she believed the term was.

"You don't _have_ to register, but registering has definite benefits. Access to safe-houses in certain cities, access to a wealth of information... access to a lawyer, just in case something goes wrong."

"Hey, we're here," said Merry, pulling up in the parking lot of the museum. The castle-like building, a post office in previous times, loomed impressively in the foreground, casting a shadow over immaculately-kept grounds. "Damnit," she swore, as she failed three times to find 'park' gear, and the engine made a churning sound. "Bloody Americans and their bloody left-hand drives." Pippin grinned, and Merry glanced into the back of the van. "We'll go check it out. Danny, Avariel, stay here."

"I think not," Ava said. The girls could boss their brother around all they liked, but she was an angel. She would not be ordered around by humans... other than Bobby, of course. But not only did Bobby hold her leash, he also held her respect. She had Watched him for some time, and had seen that he was honourable. These children had yet to prove themselves to her. She teleported to outside the van, and waited for the girls. "Don't worry," she said, as the twins stepped out of the vehicle, "I'll let you do all the talking."

"Just... try not to get in our way," Merry said irritably.

Ava followed the twins towards the front entrance of the building, and together they climbed the steps. The door was open so they went inside, into the cooler darkness of the entrance hall. There were a few people inside the building, talking quietly as they stood in front of exhibits. Pippin nodded towards a grey-haired middle-aged man who was wearing a dark blue blazer over a light blue shirt, the word 'curator' written on a badge on his breast. The twins walked straight for him.

"Excuse me," Merry said, glancing at the name-tag below the badge. "Mr Mayweather?"

"Yes, can I help you?" he asked, his eyes roaming over all three of them, taking in their appearances.

"We are transfer students, recently arrived at Saginaw University," Merry lied smoothly. "We're massive history buffs, and we've just joined the Saginaw Valley History Club. We were told this is the best place to come to learn about the area and its heritage." She gave the curator a warm, friendly smile, which he returned.

"Well, you've been told right," he replied. "And I'm always happy to help out students of the History Club. Feel free to look around for as long as you like."

"That's very kind of you, Mr Mayweather," Pippin said, also smiling. Ava didn't bother with a smile. Dean had told her that her smile looked 'creepy and false', possibly because there was no real emotion behind it. "We heard that you sometimes get special exhibitions in, too. Is there anything of interest on display at the moment?"

"Well, other than the usual displays," he said, "we've got a brand new Ancient Egyptian exhibition. We have great links with one of the museums in Cairo, and they generously allowed us to borrow some of their items for a month. As soon as it's up, we expect it to be a real crowd-drawer."

Merry's cellphone rang in her pocket, and she walked away from the group to answer the call. Ava, her curiosity getting the better of her, altered her mind's perception, to pick up the signal of the phone.

 _"What is it?" Merry asked quietly._

 _"Hey," Danny said, on the other end of the line, "thought I'd give you a heads up. I just ran the museum's info through a news search, and I got something that might be of interest. A few days ago, the museum was broken into, out of hours. The papers say there was one confirmed theft, but it doesn't go into detail. Sounds like somebody wants to keep this very hush-hush. I checked police records, and they haven't turned up any leads. No suspects, either."_

 _"Thanks, Danny. Good work."_

Merry returned to the group, and turned to Mayweather. "This place is just amazing," she said. "It gives you a real sense of what the history of Saginaw was like. We were gutted to hear about the break-in. Some people just have no respect for history."

Mayweather shook his head. "It's a travesty, is what it is."

"What exactly was stolen?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to talk about that," he said. "The police are looking into it, though."

"It's okay," Merry said, looking into the man's eyes. "You can tell me. I can keep a secret."

"Well... I suppose you're right," he said with a smile. Ava looked on in surprise. She had observed that a pretty young woman could sway the mind of a man, but she had never seen it directly, from this perspective. "The item stolen was part of the shipment from Cairo. A pottery urn."

"Can you describe it?"

"Sure. About a foot high, made of clay, no handles, and a bung in the top, a sort of stopper to keep a liquid inside."

"What sort of liquid was in it?"

"There wasn't anything in it," he shrugged. "The seal was unbroken, but it was x-rayed, scanned by ultrasound, and had a dozen different tests done on it in Egypt when it was excavated. An empty urn, that's all. That's one of the reasons why the theft was so strange."

"What do you mean?" Merry asked.

"Well, the urn was undecorated. Nothing inside it. Just a plain old every-day household jar. In that same shipment were statues carved out of gold—the Egyptians were big on gold, you know, because it was so plentiful—and even a bejewelled dagger scabbard. They were untouched. Whoever it was... it was almost as if they knew exactly what they wanted, and they left the most valuable items behind just to get it."

"Did your CCTV system capture anything?" Pippin asked him.

"I'm afraid the cameras have been out of operation for a couple of weeks now. I logged a call with the security company but they don't seem to be in any rush to get out to us." He sighed. "After this incident... well, we're definitely switching to a more reliable company."

"Which company are you with at the moment?"

"Stalwart Security."

"Ironic," Merry said. Then she smiled at the curator again. "Well, thank you very much for your time, Mr Mayweather. We'll come back another day when we have more time to fully appreciate the exhibits here."

"Of course. You're welcome here any time."

Ava followed the twins towards the door, and they stepped out into the sunlight.

"Well, this is getting weirder and weirder," Pippin said.

Danny approached from the direction of the RV, and fell into line with them. "What did you learn?" he asked.

"The stolen item was a plain, undecorated, empty urn, and the thief left various valuable gold items untouched just to nab it."

"What the hell kind of thief ignores pure gold in favour of a clay urn?" Merry asked. Her forehead was creased into a frown. "If it were me, I'd nab the gold and the jewels."

"Nothing we've learnt here helps us in any way," Pippin said. There was frustration in her voice. "We still don't know what we're up against, or how to kill it, or where Kayleigh might be. If she is even still alive. In fact, this just makes things even more complicated. What does the theft of a plain Egyptian urn have to do with the kidnapping of a young woman?"

"Nothing, as far as I can see," said her sister. "Danny, why don't you try and cross-reference all of this crap, check the web, check the Trust's databases, see what you can come up with?"

"Oh, sure," he shrugged. "That should only take five or six weeks. Not like I have anything better to do."

"Do you have a better idea?"

He held up his hands. "Don't sweat it, I'm on it."

"So... what now?" Pippin asked. "Wait for a body to turn up, or our snake-man to strike again?"

"Perhaps not," said Ava. "The animals will continue to be alert for signs of the Yuan-Ti. If they find anything, they will let me know."

"Great," said Merry. "Well, whilst we wait for the Lone Gunman and Dr Doolittle here to come up with something, I'm going to canvass the neighbourhood. See if anybody knows anything about the museum, or Kayleigh Sumner, or mysterious snake-men."

"Alright," said Pippin. "I'll go and check us into a hotel, since we might be here for a couple of days. Ava, why don't you have a look around the museum, see if you can find any more signs of our mysterious snake-monster?"

"Very well," she agreed.

"Awesome," said Danny, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll be in the van if you need me."

o - o - o - o - o

Midnight was always a quiet time, when you were around humans. Most of them were asleep at midnight, their minds and bodies quiet as they inhabited the world of dreams. Though it was a world Ava could touch, through the mind of a human, is was not a world she could enter herself. All she could do was observe dreams of others, stepping into them to momentarily view them.

As she watched over the twins, who were sleeping in two single beds—Danny had the room next door all to himself—she did not look into their dreams. She did not observe what their unconscious minds imagined. Dreams were very private things, to humans, and even Dean, who was used to angels popping into his head, had been angered by her presence in his dreams. Pippin and Merry, she suspected, would be even less pleased.

One of the twins, Merry, rolled over in bed, and briefly opened her eyes. "Don't you have anything better to be doing than watching us sleep, Ava?" she grumbled.

"I wish I did," she replied.

"It's sorta weird. And more than a little creepy."

"Soon it will be morning, and we can resume our search."

"You really don't sleep?"

"I do not."

"Right. Well, have fun or whatever."

Merry turned over and went back to sleep. Since there was no apparent danger here, Ava activated her Watcher-vision and checked up on Bobby. He was at home, and despite the late hour, he was awake, co-ordinating efforts between several other hunters. He looked tired, and she knew he was pushing himself against this apocalypse. Leaving Bobby, she turned her attention to Castiel, but he was only looking for God, nothing of interest to her. With nothing else to do, she began to observe the rest of the world.

The sun rose, lighting up the room, and the alarm clock on Pippin's phone began to sound. Seven o'clock. Ava had watched everything from birds in the rainforest to suffering in Afghanistan. The slaughter of fur seals in the Arctic Circle, to the birth of children in a maternity hospital in New Orleans. The world was full of misery and joy. Somehow, it balanced out. But if Lucifer succeeded, it would not balance out anymore. The world would lean more towards the misery end of the scale than to joy.

The sisters woke and told Ava to wait outside whilst they showered and dressed, and she accepted their request, teleporting to the outside of the motel. After half an hour, the twins and their brother were all dressed and ready to begin the day.

"So far I've got nothing," Danny said, holding his laptop up for his sisters to see. "There is mention of serpents in Egyptian mythology, specifically Wadjet, the cobra goddess. But there's serpent symbolism in pretty much every culture. The 'devil' serpent from Christian mythology, garden of Eden stuff from Genesis. There's Nidhogg, the serpent-dragon coiled around Yggdrasil in Norse mythology, and Jörmungandr the World-Serpent. Naga, in Hinduism and Buddhism. In Greece you've got Python, Typhon, Scylla, Medusa, and any number of Titans with serpent morphology. And, as you know, Kukulkan, known to the Aztecs as Quetzalcoatl, was prominent in various native American cultures. But I can't find anything that might link Yuan-Ti with a kidnapping and a theft in Michigan."

"Which means we have a fat lot of nothing," said Merry.

At that moment, a thrush flew down from a tree, straight towards Ava. She held out her hand, and the bird alighted on her finger, chirping its song. She touched its mind, saw what it saw. Rats, fleeing, as if for their lives. An exodus of them, from an electrical substation on the outskirts of town. Thanking the bird, she released it.

"I believe we have something," she told the siblings. "Rats have been leaving a building en mass. It is an electrical substation, and something is driving them out."

"You think it might the Yuan-Ti?" asked Pippin.

"It makes sense. Snakes are natural predators of rats."

"Looks like we've got ourselves a lead," Merry grinned. "About damn time, too. Danny, stay here, keep researching, just in case this doesn't pan out. Ava, can you teleport us over there?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then it's a plan. Give us fifteen to stock up on weapons, and then we'll head out there."

"C'mon, Mer, let me come with you this time," Danny said. "I promise I won't get in your way, but I want to help. I _can_ help."

"Not a chance, Danny. I might - _might_ \- consider letting you come along on a ghost hunt. But this? We don't know what we're up against, or how to kill it, or anything about their M.O. No way you're coming with us."

Danny went sulking back to his room, whilst the twins opened up the RV. Ava watched as they removed the mattress from the bed and began arming themselves with knives, pistols, a shotgun and a rifle. Pippin saw her watching, and held out a revolver to her.

"You want a weapon?"

"Thank you, but I already have a weapon. Besides, I'm not familiar with firearms. I think I'll stick with the classics."

"Your loss. Hmm... stakes, Merry?"

"Yeah," the other girl replied. "You take the pine, I'll take the oak. You've been around for a while, right Ava?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Got any advice?"

"Always look both ways before crossing the road." It was advice that was _always_ sensible. Road safety was very important.

"Yeah. Any advice that's actually relevant to this job?"

"No, I'm afraid not," she said. "I've never encountered this monster before, nor have I ever rescued any virgins."

"First time for everything," Pippin said. Then she chuckled. "Especially virgins. Well, I'm ready."

"Me too," said Merry. "Ava, good to go?"

"Yes." She touched the girls' shoulders and teleported them to the electrical substation shown to her by the thrush. There were a few trees around the building, separated from it by a chain-like fence, which Ava had teleported them inside of. She sensed nothing immediately unusual about the building. There were no signs of demons; no sulphur or EMF, but she hadn't been expecting to find any. When she looked closer, though, with her true eyes, something jumped out as... strange. There were no animals in this area. No rodents, no birds, nothing but insects.

"This is the place?" Merry asked.

"Yes, I have excellent aim," she replied. Did they think she would bring them to the wrong building?

"Do you... y'know... sense anything?" Pippin asked.

"Only a feeling of unnatural stillness. Something here has scared the animals away."

"Stay alert," said Merry.

Ava didn't bother pointing out that of course she would stay alert, and that as an angel, she couldn't _not_ stay alert. Humans enjoyed stating the obvious and issuing unnecessary orders. Had she been working with a couple of angels instead of humans, there would have been none of this. They would simply have teleported to the building and begun their search, with no need to discuss action or strategy. But Merry and Pippin were just humans, and so they needed the little things, like verbal discussion and unnecessary instruction.

Merry reached for the sub-station door, and pulled on it, but it didn't budge. She sighed. "This is going to be a bitch to pick."

"Allow me," Ava said. She pushed against the door, to test its strength, then raised her booted foot and kicked it hard. It collapsed inwards, falling to the floor with a heavy clang, sending dust swirling into the air.

"Not bad," said Pippin. "But there goes the element of surprise." She followed Merry into the building, her revolver held ready for use. Her long rifle was strapped around her torso, the weapon slung across her shoulder for ease of access.

Merry held her finger up to her lips, gesturing for silence. Pippin followed her, and Ava followed Pippin. The girls were in a half-crouch, trying to stay small, silent and inconspicuous. Ava saw no reason for such action, so she merely walked after the twins, looking around for signs of dry skin, listening for the sound of a kidnapped girl. But there was nothing.

It was dark inside the sub-station building, so Pippin brought out a torch and shone it down the corridor. A little patch of light which roamed the narrow concrete walls, casting shadows where before had been only darkness. Ava, of course, did not need the torch. As a being capable of perceiving more than visible light, she could see as well in the dark as she could in the daylight. In the time it had taken for Pippin to bring out the torch and walk a few steps forward, Ava had already determined that the corridor was twenty metres long, terminating in another heavy-looking door, with two smaller doors on either side of the corridor.

When they reached the first side-door, on the left, Merry opened it whilst Pippin prepared to storm the room. when she shone her torch into the area, however, they discovered it was empty. Or at least, empty of monsters. Several computer systems were active, but there was no sign anybody or anything had been here recently. Merry gestured to the second side-door, and they went through a similar routine, with the same results.

"Guess we're going for door number three," Pippin said. She approached the door at the end of the corridor, and stopped before grasping the handle. "It's already open," she whispered. And indeed, Ava saw that it was ajar by an inch or so.

The twins exchanged a tense glance, and then Merry nodded. Pippin pushed the door open, which revealed a flight of concrete steps leading down into deeper darkness.

Merry went first, shotgun at the ready, and Pippin shone the torch over her sister's shoulder as she followed. Down they went, the air getting cooler with every step, and Ava began to wonder if she'd made a mistake. If these monsters... these Yuan-Ti... were indeed serpents, then the cool air would make them slow and lethergic. They should have sought out a den which was warm.

The room they found themselves in was large, with a high ceiling, and it appeared to be some sort of store room. There were materials lying around; bags of unused cement, iron girders that were coated in spots of rust, an old toolbox, lengths of wire and even a coil of rope. It was probably a place where excess building materials had been stored, once construction of the sub-station had been completed. Ava bent down to examine the wire and the rope. The former was coated in a layer of dust, the colour of its plastic coating faded with age. The rope, however, was dry and smelt fresh. It was much newer than the rest of the equipment. It seemed this _was_ the right place, after all.

There was a flurry of movement, the sound of shots being fired, and Pippin dropped the torch, which split into several parts on impact with the floor. Ava stood up and whirled around; she could see their attackers, now. Two of them, large, hooded snake-like creatures, twice the length of a grown man, with a mouth full of sharp-looking teeth. They had no legs, their tails were merely coiled beneath them to give them height and motion, but they each had two pairs of arms, and both of the monsters were carrying long, curved swords. One of them had grasped Pippin, causing her to drop the torch and miss her shot. The other was circling around Merry, who could not see it because of the darkness.

Looking up, Ava saw lights in the ceiling above, and she sent an electrical charge through the bulbs. The room was illuminated, light banishing the shadows, and both snake-men hissed, a layer of translucent skin sliding up over their eyes, to protect them from the sudden harshness of the light. It was the break Pippin needed; she drew her knife from her belt and slashed at her attacker, breaking free of its grip as it hissed again in pain. The girl whirled away from the monster, standing beside her sister.

"Where's the girl?" Merry demanded, of the nearest monster. "Can you understand me, you reptilian bastard?"

The Yuan-Ti hissed and lunged for Merry, who fired her gun. The shots hit the monster, but didn't seem to cause any damage. Pippin ducked beneath its arms and slashed with her knife, scoring its skin and causing it to let out another angry cry.

The second monster turned to Ava, raising its scimitar. To counter, called forth the Sword of Damocles, and it materialised in her hand. She stepped to the side as the scimitar came down and, gripping her own sword with both hands, she struck at the Yuan-Ti. Her sword sliced beneath one of the lower arms, severing it cleanly. Green blood poured out onto the concrete floor, which began to fizz and smoke.

"Their blood is acid!" she told the twins. "Don't let it touch you."

She couldn't watch the twins _and_ her own opponent, so she focused her attention on the monster before her. When it drew too close for comfort she extended a hand, sending out a psychokinetic blast, similar to the one Zachariah had used to send her flying back. This Yuan-Ti, though, continued to advance, unaffected by her power. Whatever this creature was, it seemed that not only was it invisible to her celestial vision, it was also immune to angelic abilities. That would certainly explain why she hadn't seen anything like this before, but it didn't help her now.

She dodged the next strike from the sword, and managed to sever another of the Yuan-Ti's arms. The Sword of Damocles did not cut the Yuan-Ti as easily as it cut Zachariah, but it was a sword imbued with the ability to harm angels, demons and humans dependent upon their power and place in society. Against monsters, it was merely a sword of metal, and though it was of excellent craftsmanship, it had no additional effects.

The Yuan-Ti was a fast opponent, but it was a physical being of the Earth, and though Avariel was inside a vessel, she was still an angel. She waited for the monster to strike again, and when it did, she teleported behind it and ran it through with the sword, at what she hoped was its chest height. Acidic green blood began to bubble from the wound, and a terrible shriek, a blood-curdling death-wail, came out out the creature's mouth. Ava lifted her foot and pushed against the monster, pulling her sword from the beast's back. It toppled forward, and lay in a steaming puddle of its own blood.

When she turned to the second monster, she was just in time to see Merry slit its throat, as Pippin plunged her dagger into its stomach, eviscerating it and jumping back as the green blood began to pour from the wound. She had a cut across her upper arm, where the Yuan-Ti's sword had sliced clean through her black jacket, but otherwise, the girls seemed unharmed, though both were breathing heavily.

Merry looked at her dagger, at the metal of the blade which was melting away, and threw it down in disgust on the corpse. After a moment, Pippin was forced to do the same, her own weapon ruined by the acidic blood of the Yuan-Ti. Ava used a small amount of mental force to remove the blood from the Sword of Damocles, and was pleased to see it undamaged.

"Nice sword," Merry said. "What's it made of?"

"You have no word for the metal, because it is unknown to humans. It can be found only in one place; deep in the heart of a blazing comet, which travels a different solar system." She lowered the sword and sent it out of existence until she had need of it again.

"Do you think there's more of these things?" Pippin asked, kicking one of the dead Yuan-Ti with her boot.

"Probably," said Merry. "How's that arm holding up?"

"I'll live," said Pippin. She winced in pain, but did not appear in danger of losing too much blood. "Is there anything you can do about this, Ava?"

"Unfortunately, the ability to heal others is not something I possess right now."

"Figures."

"Let's look for the girl," Merry said. "And the urn."

They split up, spreading out around the room, checking for signs that the monsters were not alone. Ava checked amongst the tools and the piles of iron girders. There was nothing. Then she saw another door, in a corner of the room. When she tried to open it she found it locked, so she kicked it, as she had the front door, and it collapsed noisily inwards.

"What the hell was that?" Pippin shouted.

"Just me," said Ava. "I believe I've found Kayleigh."

She stepped into the small room, and looked at the girl who was bound to a supportive concrete pillar. She was gagged, and her eyes were wide with fear. Clad only in the nightgown she had been kidnapped in, she looked cold, dirty and terrified. Ava wished there was something she could do for the girl, but she could not take away the memories of everything Kayleigh had suffered.

As Merry and Pippin entered the room, Ava untied the gag around the girl's mouth. "Kayleigh Sumner?" she asked.

The girl nodded, tears spilling from her eyes. "Yes. Thank God you found me. Those things... they're... not human." Her voice was raspy, as if she hadn't had enough water to drink.

"It's okay," Merry said. She fumbled with the ropes, but, lacking a dagger, she couldn't cut through them. Ava reached out and touched the rope where it went tight against the post, burning through it. "We killed them."

"You... you killed them?" Kayleigh asked, hope and disbelief in her voice. "But... how?"

"It's what we do," Pippin said grimly. She held the girl's arm as she stepped away from the post. "Kayleigh, do you know why they took you?"

The young woman shook her head, and fresh tears began to leak. "No. They came once a day... or at least, I think it was once a day, it was hard to tell... and they gave me fruit and water, but that was it. I don't think they can talk."

"Look at this," said Merry. She was standing in front of a stone altar, looking down at two empty golden dishes. There were several bones lying across the altar, and on the wall behind it an ankh had been painted. "Looks like witchcraft."

"It's not witchcraft," Ava said, gesturing at the ankh. "This is a symbol of luck and protection, rarely seen or used in occult practices."

"What about the bones?"

She picked one up, and sniffed it. "They're not human. From a lion, in fact."

"Who... who are you people?" Kayleigh demanded, looking at Ava and Merry with wide eyes.

"It's okay," Pippin said reassuringly, "we're here to help. We're going to get you out of here, take you to a hospital so they can check you over. But before we take you out of here, you're going to have to decide what you're going to tell the police."

"What do you mean? I'll tell them everything that's happened to me."

"You can't do that, Kayleigh. Think about it. If you tell them the truth, do you think they'll believe you? If you tell them you were kidnapped by monsters, they will think you're insane. They'll stick you in a padded cell and stuff you with pills. You'll be left with the stigma of that for the rest of your life."

"No... no, I'll show them the monsters. I'll show them that shrine thing. They'll have to believe me."

"Kayleigh," Pippin said, turning the girl around to face her and giving her a look of genuine sympathy. It was an expression Ava had yet to master, though she had tried it a few times looking into the mirror in Bobby's house. There was just something about it that she couldn't quite recreate. "The police... the rest of the world... they're not ready to know about this. They won't know how to handle it. It will only panic them, and cause chaos and confusion. Besides, do you even know where you are?"

Kayleigh shook her head. "I was unconscious. I just woke up, and I was here. But you could tell the police where you found me."

"We could, but we won't. The truth is, sometimes monsters like these can regenerate, and come back to life. To stop them... to truly stop them... we need to salt and burn the bodies, and the sooner we do that, the safer you'll be. I know this has been difficult for you, and you're scared, and you have questions, but if you tell people what really happened to you, your life will be over."

"May I offer a suggestion?" Merry asked. Kayleigh nodded. "You were kidnapped from your room by masked men, who kept you locked up in a shed in the woods. Whenever they brought you food, they wore masks, so you can't identify them, and it was dark, so you didn't see their clothes. One day they didn't lock the door properly. You managed to escape. You wandered dazed and confused in the woods until you came to a road, where my sister here found you and took you to the hospital."

"You want me to lie? But lying to the police is a crime!"

"It's up to you, Kayleigh," said Merry. "But if you _do_ decide to tell the truth, you're not going to be able to tell the police where you were kept, and you'll have no bodies to show them. Plus, word gets out to the press, and you'll be forever known as the girl who cried 'monster'. Nobody will believe you."

"I suppose when you put it like that," Kayleigh relented at last, her gaze on the floor.

"Good. Now, my sister's going to take you to the hospital and keep an eye on you for a little while. Before you go, there's one more thing you need to get your head around."

"What?"

"You're going to close your eyes, and when you open them again, you'll be at the hospital. No journey there, no travel time... you'll just appear there. But you won't be alone, okay? Pip will be with you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just trust me. Now close your eyes." Merry waited until the girl's eyes were closed, and then nodded at Ava.

She reached out, touching both Kayleigh and Pippin, sending them to just around the corner of the local hospital.

"What the hell's going on here, Ava?" the younger twin asked once they were alone.

"I do not know. It looks as if these Yuan-Ti were performing some sort of ritual, though I cannot see a connection between any of these items, or the kidnapping of the girl."

"It also begs the question, where's the museum urn?"

"Perhaps the theft was unrelated."

"I don't believe that for a second," Merry scoffed. "Anyway, we need to make sure this stuff can't be used for any more rituals."

Ava picked up the four femur bones and snapped them in half. Then she picked up the gold dishes and excited the molecules of the metal so that they broke apart their bonds, the dishes melting onto the floor. Finally she turned her attention to the altar, and brought her fist smashing down upon it, cracking it in half.

"Well, that's one way of doing it. Would you mind zipping back over to the van? I need a can of petrol and a bag of salt."

"Of course," she replied.

"Thanks. I'll take another look around for that urn, but I think we're going to have to cut our losses on that one. Can't win them all, I suppose," Merry sighed.

Ava nodded. She knew from observation, if not from experience, that you couldn't win every battle. You had to pick your fights carefully if you wanted to win the war. And she did intend to be on the winning side in the war. One battle at a time.

 _\- o -_


	3. Tequila and College Tales

_**Fallen**_

 _ **Book 3:**_ _ **Missing Girls and Mystery Monsters**_

Chapter 3

 _\- Tequila and College Tales -_

Avariel stood in the motel room looking over the sleeping forms of the two human girls. She thought of them as girls, even though they were twenty-three, and technically women in their society. Compared to the length of Ava's years, they were children, infants, barely a full stop on the last page of the book. Yet despite the fact that she had watched the Earth for many thousands of years, these children, at times, were wiser than she They knew things, and saw things, that she did not know and could not see. It was a weakness of angels, she realised. Sometimes they could not see what was right in front of their faces, and even when they could see it, they couldn't always understand it.

The girls, along with Danny, were already working on the witch problem. As soon as Pippin had returned from the hospital, conveying Kayleigh's thanks for rescuing her, they had got to work on tracking down as much information as possible about Dylan Thomson; what classes he'd taken in college, what clubs he'd joined, who his classmates had been, his room-mates, which library books he'd checked out... Another day or so, and they assured her they'd have everything she needed to track down the other witches of Dylan's coven.

Working with them, she had almost forgotten about the other humans she was tasked with observing. Deciding it was past time that she checked up on them, she activated her Watcher-vision, and, for a wonder, found Castiel with the Winchesters. The angel did not know she was Watching, of course, though he was probably paranoid about it by now. He seemed to take the knowledge that she Watched him as a personal affront, though she didn't know why. She would have thought he'd be glad that she was keeping him, and by extension, Sam and Dean, safe from the Watchers in Heaven. So far, he had yet to show her any gratitude at all.

There was something afoot in the town they were working in, she realised. The three of them were inside a motel room, looking at crime scene reports. Killings... murders and suicides. A couple who had devoured each other. A man who had shoved desserts down his throat. Another couple who had killed themselves after shooting dead a colleague in the office block where they worked. And there was more. She sensed a change in the vibrational energy of Sam and Castiel. Something was interfering with their natural energy, manipulating them on some minute level. She let go of herself, stretching herself thinner, reached out, and touched Castiel with a tendril of her own celestial force.

Immediately she recoiled in horror, sickened by the hunger that was slowly growing within him. Angels did not lose control; they did not get tired, or hungry, and they desired nothing except to be instructed and loved by their Father. But something was influencing Castiel, or at least his vessel, and she suspected it was the same thing that was touching Sam, making the boy wide-eyed and sweaty. She had touched it for only the briefest of moments, and she could still feel the taint of it dirtying her. A feeling rose in her stomach, a deep longing to return to the small farmhouse where Katie had grown up, to see her family once more. It was a gnawing hunger within her, and at that moment, she knew what she was dealing with.

She hurried to the telephone within the room, picked up the receiver, and dialled the number of the arch-angel Gabriel. He answered after three rings.

"House of Fun, how may we help you today?"

"It's me," she said. "I need to meet with you urgently. It's about the Winchesters."

"I'm at Chrissy's house in Hollywood."

"Chrissy?"

"Aguilera. Don't worry, she's not here... away touring Europe or something. Bring a bottle of tequila."

The line went dead.

She wasn't sure how serious he was being, about the house or the tequila, but she didn't have time to wonder. Taking one last look at the sleeping humans, she teleported to a nearby liquor store. As soon as she arrived, the shop's alarm sensors detected her and the external bell began to sound. She exerted an electrical force from her body, interrupting the power supply to the alarm and the CCTV cameras, and the shop fell silent. It didn't take her long to find the tequila; she selected the most expensive one on the shelf. Then, she teleported again.

The house she found herself outside of was large and luxurious. Two high-performance cars were inside the garage, and there was music coming from the upper floors of the house. When she approached the front door, it opened automatically, and she stepped into the opulent building. Following the sound of the music, she climbed the wide, sweeping staircase, letting her hand run along the wooden bannister. At the top of the stairs she looked around at the various doors, and picked the double doors to the left which most likely led to the master bedroom. It was where the music was coming from, and when she listened a little closer, she realised it was Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries blaring out over the sound-system.

Again, the doors opened at her approach, to reveal Gabriel standing in the centre of the room, wearing what appeared to be his favoured gold silk dressing gown and holding two shot glasses in his hands.

"Welcome, Brynhildr," he said. "I don't suppose you thought to bring salt, did you?"

She shook her head. Brynhildr was a Norse shieldmaiden and leader of the Valkyries; Avariel had no idea what it had to do with her. "Why do you need salt?" she asked. "Are there demons nearby?"

"Nah. It's for the tequila. You can't do shots without salt. Or lime, come to think of it. Nip out and get some, will you? Make it fresh lime, too. I can't stand the supermarket stuff. Leave the bottle."

She put the bottle of tequila down on the table and teleported to yet another store, where she picked up a bag of salt, then teleported to a field in California where lime trees were growing in orderly rows. Mentally, she commanded one of the ripest limes to fall, and caught it before it could hit the ground. Then she teleported back to the house in Hollywood, where Gabriel was waiting with two glasses of the tequila. He gestured for her to join him at the bar, and she took a seat on one of the high stools.

"As you requested," she said, putting the salt and lime on the table.

"Good girl. Now, have you ever had alcohol before?"

"No, not yet." She looked at the tequila bottle, and what floated in suspension at the bottom. "I feel sorry for the worm."

"You don't drink the worm, you drink what it's suspended in. Here." He slid one of the glasses to her. "The order goes salt, tequila, lime. Like this." He sprinkled a layer of salt across the top of his hand and used a slicing motion with one finger to cut off a slice of the lime. Then he licked the salt, downed the tequila, and bit down onto the lime. "Now, your turn."

"This does not look hygienic," she said feebly. He gave her a pointed look, and she gave up trying to get out of it. She mimicked his actions, licking the salt from her hand, swallowing the shot of tequila, and biting into the lime. It was like a horrible explosion of foulness in her mouth. "I don't understand the point of this," she said, spitting out a lime pip onto her hand.

"Human games rarely have a point," he said knowledgeably. "The point of this one, however, is mostly to do as many shots as you can and see who's left standing at the end."

She picked up the bottle and turned it over in her hand, reading the blurb on the back. "It will take many, many more of these to intoxicate either of us."

"True. But we're not here to get drunk, we're here to enjoy a bottle of tequila and conspire against Heaven." He poured two more shots of tequila and narrowed his hazel-brown eyes at her. "So. Tell me about my favourite apes."

"They are investigating a string of deaths in a town where Famine touches all who dwell there."

"Wow, really, Famine? I was not expecting that. Drink your tequila."

She obeyed, drinking her second shot of the liquid. This time, she didn't bother with the salt or the lime. "I don't think they know what they are up against yet," she said, "but they soon will. Already they are being subtly influenced by the Horseman."

"Hmm. Do you think they're ready to take on another Horseman?"

She scoffed. "No. They are like children, stumbling around in the dark."

"Then maybe you should enlighten them."

"And fall under Famine's influence myself? I felt his touch when I was merely Watching the town. I can only imagine how much worse it would be, to be physically present there. Besides I doubt I could help them without raising their suspicions."

"Good point. Those two baboons have a habit of doing the opposite of what I want them to." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, and poured two more shots. "Drink." She obeyed. "Alright. We'll let them do this on their own. If they're going to trap Michael and Lucifer in the cage, they're going to need to get better at vanquishing opponents far more powerful than they are. Will you keep an eye on them?"

"Of course."

"Good. I'll step in if necessary, but I'd rather not reveal my hand unless I must."

"A poker term," she mused. Poker was something she had watched a lot of, from Heaven. An interesting game of skill and luck with many variables. His expression raised a question she had been pondering ever since Bartholomew had told her where to find the arch-angel. "Gabriel, may I ask you a question?"

"Six," he replied.

"I'm sorry?"

"You were going to ask how many women I had in this bed last night, right?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No, I was going to ask why you chose to pose as a Trickster. You are one of the most powerful beings in all of existence... you could have been anything. Why... this?" she asked, gesturing at his vessel.

"Why not this? I had to be something, and those pagan gods were all about bowing to the sun and sacrificing people when the winter solstice blah blah blah. To be honest, I did consider being Quetzalcoatl—those Aztecs really knew how to build their pyramids—but I wanted to get away from the whole 'feathered' look. Pretty much everybody else has to pander to their worshippers, but Tricksters exist without worship, as agents of chaos and deception, powerful and beholden to nobody. I knew it was the last place other angels would look for me. Plus, it's fun. I get to screw around with the apes. They have an amazing sense of humour. I especially enjoy irony. It's so... delicious."

"And this life makes you happy?"

"Happy enough, yeah."

"Then why do you want to return to Heaven?"

"You know, you're less deferential than Bartholomew described. Have you always asked this many questions of your superiors?"

"No, before rebelling in Heaven, and taking this vessel, I was a very proper and respectful grigori."

"So you just arrived here on Earth with an attitude problem?"

"I guess so," she shrugged. "I suppose my 'attitude' stems from the fact that I fought the law and won. I held my own against a powerful seraph, and have managed to manipulate my way into reaching Earth and finding you. Is my 'attitude' a cause for concern?"

"Depends on who you ask. I'm sure Michael and Raphael would smite you for your impudence, if they could. Lucifer would find you to be an amusing toy, something to be played with for his own entertainment."

"And you?" she asked, genuinely interested in his thoughts about her.

"I guess I have a soft spot for people with suicidal bravery and a blatant disregard for 'proper' behaviour." He used his hand to lift her chin and look into her eyes. "But I can end your existence with a snap of my fingers, and if I have reason to believe you're straying from the path, I won't hesitate. Don't betray me."

"I won't," she whispered, suddenly too afraid to make further assurances that she was loyal to him.

"Good." He released her chin and smiled at her. "I'm becoming quite fond of you. I'd hate to have to get rid of you. Now, tell me what you've been getting up to here on Earth since we last met."

She swallowed her fear, and sat up a little straighter. She suspected he didn't truly care, but that he was bothering with 'small talk' at all took the sting out of his threat. A little.

"Recently, I worked with a family of hunters to rescue a young woman from the clutches of monsters of unknown intent and classification."

"Was she grateful?"

"Yes, very."

"Did you tell her what you were?"

"No," she admitted. "I let her believe that I was simply another hunter."

"Ahh. And why'd you do that?"

"Because you were right," she said, downing another tequila. The bottle was almost gone, now; they were nearly down to the worm. "People have a desperate need for answers. Some answers I simply can't give, so it's better to say nothing. Humans, for the most part, are not ready to hear the truth. I think that even some angels aren't ready to hear the truth."

"Well well. Seems I've got myself a fast learner." He put his hands together in mock prayer, and looked to the ceiling. "Thank Dad. Now, time for you to run along. Go back to saving humans or whatever it is you're doing. And don't forget to keep me apprised of what's happening with my monkeys."

"I'll let you know as soon as there is news."

"Good girl. Don't be a stranger."

He poured one last drink for himself and tossed the empty tequila bottle to her, which she caught one-handed. As soon as she grasped the bottle she was teleported back to the motel, and found herself looking over the Carvers once more. When she looked at the clock on the wall, she discovered no time had actually passed whilst she had been with Gabriel, and yet her body clearly told her that she had been hundreds of miles away from here... and that she had been drinking tequila. Why Gabriel had chosen to send her back in time, to the moment she had departed the hotel, she did not know. Perhaps as a display of his power, a reminder of what he was capable of.

In the double bed, Merry stirred, and groggily opened her grey eyes. When she saw the empty tequila bottle in Avariel's hand, she smiled sleepily.

"You've been out having fun without us, Ava?"

Ava looked at the bottle in her hand. There was no real way she could explain this to the girl. She suspected Gabriel would not approve of humans knowing about him.

"No, I was just drinking as I watched over you," she lied.

"I didn't know angels even drank. Isn't that a sin or something?"

"To be honest, I no longer know what is and is not a sin in my Father's eyes, Merry," she admitted. Then, she put the bottle down on the table. "You should go back to sleep. It's still early morning."

"Yeah," Merry agreed. "So... you really don't sleep, huh?"

"No." Humans seemed to have problems understanding that she required no sleep. No matter how many times she told them, they didn't seem to believe it. "Pleasant dreams, Merry."

"Pleasant drinking, Ava," Merry said. Then she lay back down, closed her eyes, and drifted off back to sleep.

Left to herself again, Ava settled into a more comfortable stance, and resumed her observation of the Winchesters.

o - o - o - o - o

The Carvers were holed up in one of the motel rooms, mostly because the van was too small to comfortably accommodate three people and an angel. Ava waited patiently whilst Danny did things on his computer, and Pippin made phone calls to the campus where Dylan had studied. Merry, claiming she lacked the technological skills to put up with a laptop and the 'people skills' to make phone calls to strangers, kept herself occupied by cleaning some of the weapons she and her sister owned.

"And you don't have a hang-over at all?" Merry asked, for the third time that morning.

"No."

"But you drank a full bottle of tequila. You should be paralytic. Or at least throwing your guts up."

"Angels are not affected by intoxicants in the same way humans are."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that. No eating, no sleeping, no getting drunk... what do angels do for fun up in Heaven? No offence, but I can't imagine you guys as the sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll types."

Ava thought about the question for a minute. It was true that angels needed no sustenance; celestial beings never aged or hungered or tired, and they lacked the ability to understand concepts which came so easily to humans; fun, for example. There were no games in Heaven. There was no television, and though there was music it was not as varied as it was on Earth. The closest angels came to 'fun' was inhabiting the Heavens of human souls, experiencing little slices of human existence in the form of relived memories. But an angel who experienced the Heaven of a human was not privy to that human's thoughts or emotions, and though an angel could interact with a memory, doing so was usually frowned upon.

"We generally do not have 'fun'," she said at last. "We watch the Earth and guard Heaven. It is our duty."

"And in all your time of watching and guarding, you never thought about coming down here and having some fun?"

"No, there have been orders against interference, and angels who disobey are cast out if... corrective punishment... fails."

"Is that what happened to you?" Danny asked, glancing up from his laptop screen. His blue-grey eyes were full of curiosity—the human trait which she felt she could best understand and relate to. She, too, was curious about many things. Sometimes, her curiosity had driven Bobby to distraction.

"Technically, no," she replied. Perhaps these humans had earned an explanation. "I left before I could be cast out, they simply barred me from returning without permission or accessing Heaven's power."

"Then how do you do the stuff you do, if you're without Heaven's power?"

She gestured at his laptop, which was plugged into the mains. "Your computer will run indefinitely whilst it is powered like that. When you unplug it and take it away from a source of power, it will continue to function on its battery for a period of time. Then, it must be recharged."

"You're saying that your _batteries_ are going to run out if you don't get plugged into Heaven?" he asked. He was concerned for her; she could tell by the expression on his face.

"Not if I am sensible about using my powers. There are certain things, such as healing people and smiting demons with my touch, that I can no longer do, and other things, such as attempting to travel through time, that I should not attempt to do lest I weaken myself and am unable to recover."

"What happens if you can't get... refuelled?" Merry asked, finishing her work on her pistol. She put it down on the bed and picked up another gun.

"I don't know," Ava admitted. "It's been a while since one of my class of angels fell or was cast out. The last time it happened, most of them couldn't bear to be cut off from Heaven. They wandered the Earth until they were weary of it, then chose to become human so that they could die."

"How cheerful."

"Sorry to interrupt such a macabre discussion," said Pippin, tossing her mobile phone down onto the bed, "but I've just about finished up here. I've got as much info as I can over the phone, the rest is going to need a more personal touch."

"Danny? How's your stuff going?"

"All done. I've sent the info to the printer in the van. Everything from Dylan Thomson's campus address to his exam scores."

"Great, I'll go grab it," said Merry. She picked up the van keys and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

"Your sister appears eager to see me gone," Ava observed.

"It's nothing personal," said Pippin. "We're just... not big on outside help."

"For what it's worth, I've enjoyed your company," Danny said. "Working with you has been interesting."

The motel door opened again, and Merry reappeared with two sheets of printed A4 paper. "Here you go, Ava. I'm sure you'll be able to track down the rest of Dylan's coven with this."

"Take this, too," Pippin added, handing over her hand-written notes. "Good luck."

"Thank you," Ava said, to all three. "What will you do now?"

Merry shrugged. "Keep hunting. We'll put out feelers, see if we can find the urn that was stolen from the museum."

"Do you think we'll see you again?" Danny asked her.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe."

Because she disliked goodbyes, she teleported to a quiet area of campus at Adelphi University's College of Arts and Sciences, New York. It was a large, red brick building set amidst a sprawling garden. The skyline of New York was visible only in the distance, partially obscured by a foggy haze.

It was lunch time, and students were walking about the campus, talking to each other, some carrying sandwiches or paper cups of coffee. It was a vibrant and lively place, the air charged with excitement and potential. The faces of the students ranged from eager and happy to tired and overwhelmed, each of them a little island of humanity, floating around other islands of humanity. United by _what_ they were, but separated by _who_ they were. Not unlike angels, Ava mused. As above, so below.

She looked down at the paper in her hands, and read the name of the lecturer for Dylan's English literature class. Professor Thomas Wright. Room number 349 was where his office was based, but Ava did not teleport directly there. She needed to blend in here, as she had in Knott, if she had any hope of finding answers. People would not be inclined to answer the questions of a woman who randomly appeared in a room without using a door, and she was not in the mood to answer the same questions over and over again about the nature of her existence.

There was a small wooden signpost nearby, and she walked towards it, studying it. One of the arms read 'Humanities and Languages Dept.' and pointed towards an entrance of the building. Ava followed it, walking along the path, stepping around the students. A few of them looked at her briefly; mostly the male students. Katie was, she supposed, visually appealing by human standards, so it was natural that men should look. They could not help what was in their nature.

Once inside the building she walked the halls until she came to a staircase, and then began to climb. She passed a few students, a few members of faculty, even a security guard, and none questioned her right to be there. It was perhaps very fortuitous that her vessel was a young woman, and not an elderly man. She would not have looked so inconspicuous here in an older body.

It didn't take her long to find room 349, and she knocked on the door, waiting to be called in before stepping into the room. Professor Wright was behind his desk; a grey-haired man wearing a pair of corduroy trousers and a tartan jumper over a shirt and tie. His brown eyes appraised her briefly from behind narrow wire-framed spectacles, before he glanced at the pile of papers on his desk once more.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Professor Wright?" she enquired, just to be sure this was the correct man.

"That's what it says on my door." He looked up again, and studied her more closely. "I don't recognise you from my classes. Are you a student here?" he asked suspiciously.

"No," she admitted. "But my brother was. Dylan Thomson? He graduated last year."

"Ah yes, Dylan," he said, putting down his pen and smiling. "I remember your brother well. He was very talented. But what brings you here today, Miss..?"

"Amber," she lied. "My name is Amber. And I was hoping you could help me, Professor."

"Help you in what way?"

"My brother passed away a few weeks ago," she said.

"I'm so very sorry to hear that." The sadness and sympathy in his eyes was not feigned. It seemed this man truly _did_ remember Dylan Thomson fondly.

"Thank you." She tried to make her facial expression convey sadness, but she wasn't sure it was working. It felt... strange.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did it happen?"

"A car accident," she said. "He was hit by a drunk driver." Improvisation was a skill she had never needed before, and she decided she had some small talent for it.

"A devastating loss," said Professor Wright. "You and your family have my deepest sympathies."

"Thanks, I'll pass your condolences on to my parents. As to why I'm here... I know Dylan had a lot of friends here, whilst he was studying, and most of them don't know about his passing. I was hoping to contact some of them, to pass on the news, but unfortunately Dylan's phone was damaged in the crash, so we've been unable to search through his contacts. As you taught my brother, I hoped you might have some idea of who his friends are, and how I might find them."

Professor Wright sighed, took off his glasses, cleaned them with his shirt, and put them back on his face again, leaning forward to look at her. "Certainly, I can give you the names of some of the students he was closest to, but I'm afraid that I can't release personal information about any students, past or present. The university operates a data protection policy. I hope you can understand."

"Yes, of course," she said, biting back her frustration. Names, at least, were better than nothing. Perhaps if she got names, Danny Carver would be able to use his computer to track the former students down. "I would appreciate anything you could do for me."

He picked up his pen and a blank sheet of paper and wrote down several lines; names, she could see. Then he folded it up and held it out to her. "These were the three students your brother always arrived in class with, and sat with."

She took the paper and opened it up, reading the names. _Simon Brandwood. Gretta Walker. Calvin Hall._ "I appreciate your help, Professor Wright" she said.

"There is one other thing," he told her. "A lot of the students like to visit a bar, just on the edge of campus. It's called Garden Life—named after our campus. I heard your brother and his friends mention it a couple of times, and I think they were regulars. Could be somebody there can give you more info than I can."

"I'll check it out right away."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't bother. It doesn't open until eight."

"Oh." That was slightly inconvenient, but not a real problem for an ageless being possessed of infinite patience. "I'll check it out tonight, then."

"Good luck, Amber. And again, I'm truly sorry about your brother's passing." He smiled. "I'm sure there's one more angel in Heaven, now."

She nodded her thanks and left the room, not even bothering to correct him. Humans could not become angels, not even in Heaven, and she was almost certain that Dylan hadn't gone to the realm of eternal peace and happiness. More likely he was suffering in the pit of eternal damnation and despair, and rightly so. He hadn't been some naïve child, tricked into practicing witchcraft by a wily demon. He had been a grown man with his own mind, and he had made his own choice. He had inflicted suffering upon his home town, and now he deserved to be punished for it. And, if she was successful, he wouldn't be suffering alone for very long.

o - o - o - o - o

Garden Life was a large bar situated not far from the campus. There was a neon sign hanging outside it, depicting the club's name alongside the image of a tree, which Ava found to be amusing. Loud rock music blared out from the building, and people were entering and leaving through the door, though more entered than left.

Ava had spent several hours waiting for the bar to open, passing the time by visiting the café near Perugia where she had taken Bobby after being released from her circle of holy fire. Again, she ordered chocolate icecream, then decided to try coffee, which tasted even worse than the tequila Gabriel had made her drink. For some time she had watched the customers of the café, observing them as they dined and talked, a silent witness to the tiny slice of humanity. These people didn't even know that an apocalypse was upon them. Oh, they'd heard about the earthquake in Rome, seen news of devastating weather in America, heard about the fires in Australia and the floods in Bangladesh and India, but they hadn't connected it with the end of the world. Very few people knew what was truly happening, and if they'd known that they were perhaps only months away from a croatoan outbreak, they would probably not have sat calmly sipping their grandé cappuccinos. They would have panicked.

When the café had closed for the day she had teleported herself to the coast and sat watching the waves in silence, being relaxed by the sound of them breaking against the shore, slowly doing their best to wear down the continent. In a few million years they will have been successful, and the face of the Earth would be unrecognisable by humans today, just as it would now be unrecognisable by the prehistoric ancestors of mankind who had lived in a frozen Europe.

At last her internal clock told her that it was nine o'clock in New York, and she returned to America. The sky was rapidly darkening, but humanity was still wide awake. People eating, drinking, talking and dancing, living their lives, as oblivious to the apocalypse as the customers of the café outside Perugia. Life seemed driven to continue, and it wasn't a feature particular to humanity. Out of the ashes of fires grew new shoots. When a storm blew over a tree, it made room for new growth. Lands devastated by floods eventually became wetland ecosystems, teeming with life. Wherever there was death and destruction, there was life and growth. But what would happen if Lucifer had his way? In Heaven, it was said that Lucifer would burn the Earth to ash, just to kill the humans and scorn his father, but Ava wasn't so sure. Reducing an entire planet to ash would be a lot of hard work, even for a being as powerful as an arch-angel. Lucifer already had a way of selectively killing humans; the croatoan virus.

Similarly, she knew what some of the demons thought; that Lucifer would kill humans, then demons, and claim the world for himself. The demon Crowley, who had given the Winchesters back the Colt in the hopes that it would kill the devil, had made his concerns very clear. Ultimately, the plan had failed, and the Colt had proven useless against the arch-angel, causing him only a minor amount of pain and damage which he had healed from quickly. Where Crowley was now she did not know, nor did she care. With any luck he was dead; it was what all demons deserved.

She had to wonder; if Lucifer hated humans, and loathed the demons he had made from their tortured and corrupted souls, what did he think of angels? When Lucifer had been cast out of Heaven, none of his brothers and sisters had stood up for him, and though many grigori had fallen not long after, it was not out of a desire to follow Lucifer, but out of their own selfishness and greed. If Lucifer managed to control Earth, and Hell, would he then turn his gaze towards Heaven? Would he attempt to punish those who had silently watched as Michael cast him out of Heaven and banished him first to Earth, and then to his cage within the deepest layer of Hell?

Unfortunately, speculation was all she had. Lucifer's thoughts and motives were unknown to her, and she was content to keep it that way. All angels were her family, even the ones who had fallen, and Lucifer was no exception. But he was the only one who had become a monster; he was the source of all demons. But it was worse than that. Only God could create new angels, but the Devil was not the only one who could create new demons. Taught the lessons of corruption by Lucifer, the demons could now create more of themselves, by torturing human souls condemned to Hell. And, because time moved faster in Hell, all it usually took was a few short Earth-years to create an army of new demons.

To Ava, the answer to the demon problem seemed clear. If angels intervened on Earth, if they showed themselves to people, helped them, instructed them, then people would know that Heaven and Hell were real, and they would be less likely to perform sinful acts which resulted in their being sent to Hell. In this way, they could starve Hell of the souls it needed to create new demons. Sadly, the angels did not seem inclined to intervene, though whether it was a command of God that they not interfere, she did not know. If it _was_ her Father's command, then why had he brought back Castiel for his interference? Why was she herself still free to act on Earth?

Speculation would get her nowhere, she realised. In all likelihood, she could probably never hope to comprehend God or his plans, and right now, she had a job to do.

She entered the bar, her eyes immediately adapting to the lower intensity of light. There was a stage and a dance floor, a live band with a female singer— nowhere near as good a singer as Ava, of course—playing slow music. Couples danced on the floor, their arms wrapped around each other, some kissing, oblivious to everybody else, as blue and red spotlights on the ceiling slowly created patterns on the people and the floor. The whole room smelt of alcohol and pheromones; not a pleasant combination, so she switched off her ability to smell the humans and the chemicals their bodies produced, and found the smell of alcohol slightly easier to deal with on its own.

It was the first time she had been inside a bar, so she spent a few minutes wandering around, observing people. They were students, mostly, or at least of student-age, though there were a few older people too. Those who weren't dancing and drowning each other in pheromones sat at tables or stood around in groups, talking amongst themselves over the music. The topics of conversation were many and varied; sports, art, music, literature, cars, family, food, love, sex, television... each human had their own opinion about everything. It was, in part, what made them; they were a collection of thoughts, feelings, memories and opinions. They were each tiny miracles, with souls they had been imbued with through means unknown. Each one of them had the potential for great power, and yet their lives were so easy to snuff out, their bodies so small and frail.

When Ava reached the bar, she found an opening, and stepped up to where a black-haired woman sporting several interesting-looking facial piercings in her lips and eyebrows was stacking clean glasses on a shelf. When the woman saw Ava she raised one of those studded brows, and said, "Got any ID?"

"I'm not here to order a drink," she replied. "I'm looking for information."

"This isn't a library, kid," the woman replied. She said 'kid', though Ava doubted she could be more than five or six years older than her vessel.

"Yes, I'm aware of that, but the library doesn't have the information I need." She leant across the bar, finding it difficult to hear the woman over the sound of the music. "I'm looking for somebody who might know my brother. He used to come here, I think, when he was studying at the university."

"Who's your brother?"

"His name is Dylan Thomson."

"Hmm... Dylan... Dylan..." the woman said, biting the corner of her mouth as she thought. "Tall guy, brown hair, amazing green eyes?"

"Yes, that's him," she replied, seeing no need to ask the woman to quantify 'amazing'. It was one of the approval-words that humans used.

"Yeah, I'd see him in here a lot. Never got his surname, though." She smiled. "Why are you looking for someone who knows him?"

"Because my brother died a few weeks ago, and I'm trying to find his friends, to pass on the news."

"Geez, I'm sorry," the woman replied. "What's your name, kid?"

"Amber."

"Well, Amber, let me get you a drink while we talk."

"Thank you, but I have no money."

"Don't worry about it, it's on me. Name's Max, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Max," she said, offering her hand. It was one of the traditional human greetings. Max eyed her hand with surprise before shaking it.

"So, what'll you drink? Nothing alcoholic, mind."

"I'll have a root beer, please." She had enjoyed the last one enough to have another, and she watched as Max took a bottle out of a fridge below the counter and poured the contents into a glass. Ava took a long sip, and found that this root beer tasted even better than the last one. She smiled as the bubbles fizzed over her tongue.

"Do you mind me asking what happened to your brother?" asked Max.

"Car accident. He was hit by a drunk driver."

"Those DUI bastards," Max scowled. "My uncle got hit by one too, now he has three metal pins in his leg and walks with a limp. I hope they slapped the guy who killed Dylan in irons and put him somewhere he daren't pick up the soap in the shower."

Despite her familiarity with many human ways, Ava did not understand that particular reference, but she knew that anger was sometimes a way of offering sympathy. "It's ongoing," she replied. "We had the funeral weeks ago, but I don't think most of Dylan's college friends knew about what happened, so I'm here to track them down and pass on the news. I think it's what my brother would have wanted."

"Well, your brother was really popular," Max said, leaning against the bar. "Half the time I saw him he had some pretty girl hanging off his arm... usually a different one each time. But there were a few guys he hung with most of all, even when he had a girl with him. Seven of them altogether, including your brother. They seemed pretty tight."

"The friends I'm looking for in particular," she said, "are the ones who went on the road-trip with him, once they finished their studies."

"Well, I don't know anything about that, but you could try asking Wayne."

"Who's Wayne?"

"One of the guys your brother used to come here with. He decided to stay on and get his Masters, took a summer job over at Pepé's and has been at the uni since the new term started. He couldn't have gone on the road-trip, but he might know who did."

"I don't suppose you know Wayne's surname or his address?" she asked hopefully.

"Sorry. But I'm sure the manager at Pepé's will have that on record."

"Where is Pepé's?"

"Italian restaurant over on East Park. Manager's name is Franko. Tell him I sent you over, he should give you what you need."

"Thanks. I appreciate your help."

"No problem." Max studied her for a minute, then smiled. "Have you been in New York long?"

"No, I just arrived today. On the train."

"And are you finding your way around alright?"

"Yes, I have a pretty good sense of direction, and the locals have been friendly so far."

"You got somewhere to stay?"

"A motel in the city," she lied smoothly. She was getting better at this ad-lib stuff.

"Cool. Y'know, I'm on a split-shift tonight, and I get off at eleven. If you've nothing better to do, I could show you this great pizza place, they do an awesome takeaway."

Ava studied the woman for a moment, her posture and body language, the slightly mischievous glint in her eyes, and the pheromones her body was producing. "Is this a sexual advance?" she asked.

"Do you want it to be?"

"I... ah... am flattered, but I don't believe in sex before marriage," she replied, coming up with the first excuse she could pull up out of Katie's mind. She did not want her first sexual experience to be with somebody who had such a penchant for painfully sticking bits of metal through parts of their body. Besides, she hadn't even watched _The Exorcist_ yet.

"Pity. But you know where I work if you change your mind."

"Right. Well... thanks for the drink," she said, pushing her empty glass across the counter. Max picked it up, brushing her fingers briefly across the back of Ava's hand. Humans seemed to enjoy touching, though she could not understand why. It was nowhere near as good as root beer.

"Catch you later, Amber."

Ava left, feeling even more confused about humanity than ever. If the purpose of sexual intercourse was reproduction, then why did men have relationships with men, and women have them with women? This wasn't the first time she had witnessed it—it was very common throughout human history—but it was something she had never understood. Why would two people engage in what was essentially a fruitless relationship? The whole thing made about as much sense as two angels being intimate. It was simply a pointless exercise resulting in nothing.

But then again, humans had proven, time and time again, that they were ridiculously emotional beings. The things they did for what they perceived to be romantic love were often foolish and incomprehensible. Men cheated on their wives, and wives cheated on their husbands. People made foolish declarations of their feelings, only to retract them when the chemically-induced fuzziness wore off. 'Love' was often blamed for people committing sins, such as lying, cheating and even murdering. So perhaps love was why people stayed in relationships that could not possibly result in children. Perhaps that, along with loyalty, were strong enough within some people to resist temptation. After all, a man or a woman who had a barren partner might still feel compelled to stay with that partner, out of love and loyalty, even though the union would bear no children.

The thought of having a relationship with a woman, though, was unappealing to Katie, and Ava was not prepared to upset her vessel to that extent—the chocolate icecream was bad enough, for now. The least she could do was find somebody whom Katie did not find too objectionable, to experience sex with. Clearly it was something which would require a lot of planning ahead for; she would have to find the right person, the right location, the right time...

But not today. Today she had an investigation to continue. Once she was outside the bar, and in a suitably quiet area, she teleported to East Park, and looked for the Italian restaurant. She found it easily, and was pleased to see it still open. When she stepped inside the building she was greeted by accordion music playing over the sound-system, and an olive-skinned maitre d' who smiled automatically at the sign of a potential customer.

"Good evening," the suited man replied, approaching her with a menu in the crook of his arm. "May I seat you at a table?"

"I'm not here to eat," she said. "I need to see Franko."

"I'm sorry, but Franko is a very busy man. If you have any questions or complaints about the service here, I am more than happy to assist."

"I need to talk to Franko about one of your employees. Wayne? A woman called Max, at Garden Life, said he might be able to help me."

"Ah. I see. Very well, please follow me into the back and I'm sure Franko will see you."

He led her through the restaurant and she glanced around at the diners as she passed. They were mostly couples seated opposite each other, smiling over their lasagnas and pasta. The garlic bread smelt wonderful, and she suddenly found herself wishing she had some money with her. Perhaps later she would visit an ATM machine and rectify that.

He passed through a door that said 'staff only' on it, and then took her past a hot, steamy kitchen where two cooks were working over large cookers, funny little white hats perched on their heads. The corridor was darker than the restaurant area, and not quite as clean. There were one or two small cobwebs dangling from the ceiling, and she saw a spider extending one of them. Spiders were one of the creatures she liked most of all. They were fascinating; complex yet uncomplicated. She had once Watched a spider spin a large web in a garden, and the next morning the entire web was covered in droplets of dew, giving it the appearance of a beautiful chain of fine transparent beads, each one reflecting the light of the rising sun into tiny prismatic rainbows. Seeing such beauty and intricacy in something as seemingly random as nature had touched her deeply, and even though she had been in Heaven at the time, she felt almost as if she could _feel_ the love and attention her Father had poured into creation.

A door at the back of the building bore a small plaque which said 'manager's office' and her guide told her to wait outside whilst he himself stepped in and spoke quiet words to the manager. Of course, he probably _thought_ he was being quiet, but Ava could hear everything that was said. When he returned from the room and told her to enter, she did, and he himself went back to the front of the restaurant.

The office turned out to be less Godfather-like than Ava had been expecting, and Franko looked less like a mafia boss and more like a sweaty man in a shirt that was a size too small for him. He smiled beneath a thick bushy moustache, and gestured towards the chair in front of the desk.

"Please have a seat," he said, sitting down in his own wheeled office chair. "Tony tells me Max sent you? Something about Wayne? He's not in any kind of trouble, is he?"

"No, nothing like that," she replied. She sat down and relaxed into the chair. "My name is Amber, and Wayne was a friend of my brother, Dylan. Sadly, Dylan passed away a few weeks ago and I'm trying to contact Wayne to let him know what happened. I think Wayne can also help me find some of my brother's other friends. I'm sure they'd all want to hear the news, since they were so close at college."

"Ahh, I see. Well, I'm sorry but Wayne is out of town at the moment, some big science convention down in NJ. We're not expecting him back for another couple of days."

"I don't mind waiting," she assured him. It's not as if she had anything else to do right now. The apocalypse wasn't going anywhere, and the Winchesters were still trying to figure out the Famine situation. "If you were able to tell me where Wayne lives, I can try his house later."

"No offence, Miss, but I'm not going to go handing out my employees' addresses to a stranger, even if Max _does_ vouch for you." He sat back in his chair, and studied her for a long moment. "I'll tell you what, though. Wayne still works here part-time, and his next shift's Wednesday night. Come back then, and I'll make sure he has time to talk to you."

"Alright," she agreed, but was secretly vexed. Trying to pass as a human was frustrating, especially since she would be able to find him herself, if she knew what he looked like. But without an image, and only a first name to go on, she was stuck here. She felt certain that if Merry and Pippin had been here, they would be able to get the address out of the manager, or maybe Danny could hack into the man's computer for it. But Ava lacked the twins' people skills, and the boy's computer skills. All she could do was wait, and play along. "Thank you for your help."

"No problem," he said. "Can you remember the way out?"

"Yeah, I can remember," she said, attempting to sound as casual and unconcerned as possible.

"Good. Guess we'll see you Wednesday, then."

"I guess so."

She left the manager's office and decided it would be prudent to leave via the exit route, rather than just teleporting to the street outside. The maitre d' said goodbye to her as she left the delicious-smelling restaurant, and then she was out on the street once more, with nothing to do until Wednesday. This whole 'hunter' business was trickier than she had initially thought.

o - o - o - o - o

"The usual, Amber?" Tony asked as she stepped inside the restaurant on Wednesday evening.

"Yes please, Tony," she replied with a smile.

"Excellent. Right this way."

'The usual' in this case was a table beside the window and the largest size of garlic bread available, with a glass of root beer to go along with it. For the past three nights she had been coming here and dining whilst waiting for Wednesday, and it was nice to be treated with a welcome whenever she showed up. She'd never really been made to feel welcome anywhere, before.

Of course, the welcome didn't come free. She'd visited an ATM machine on the opposite side of the country and run electrical currents through it until it had started dispensing cash, which she now used to pay for her food and drink. She did not consider it theft, because the money belonged to no single person; rather, it belonged to the bank, and it only existed for them as a series of numbers on a computer. Besides, she was in the process of becoming a successful hunter, and she was working to save the world and all of humanity from the apocalypse. She felt she was entitled to _something_ in return, and it wasn't as if she was doing something terrible like murdering innocents. The theft of the money was for a good cause; it was helping her to build up trust in the humans she was trying to squeeze information from.

"Is Wayne working tonight?" she asked Tony, once he'd seated her at the table and brought her a drink.

"Yeah, I'll send him out with your bread," Tony replied.

"Thanks."

He disappeared with her order and she turned her gaze to the window, watching several seagulls snapping at an empty carton that was slowly being blown down the street by the breeze. Though her nights had been spent in the restaurant, dining on unhealthy food and getting to know the staff, her days were spent sitting on a park bench, a pair of sunglasses ('borrowed' from a shop) over her eyes. To the casual observer it would have appeared that she was just sitting watching the ducks swim on the pond. In reality, her mind soared to dizzying heights as she reached out and touched the minds of birds; a falcon a hundred miles away, hovering above its prey before diving at speed towards the ground, pulling up just in time to avoid a fatal collision. A golden eagle on the other side of the country, soaring high above the mountains, riding the thermals. A gull that glided above the waves, swooping down to pick at something small and edible seen from on high.

Though angels had wings, they weren't at all useful for flying on Earth, because an angel needed the physical form of a vessel to take any action, and whilst out of a vessel, they weren't subject to the effects of gravity and weather. Sometimes she wondered why her father had even given angels wings in the first place, though of course, why he did _anything_ was a mystery to her.

"Amber, right?" somebody asked, interrupting her train of thought.

She looked up to find a young man looking down at her, a large round garlic bread on a plate in his hands. "That's right," she replied.

"I'm Wayne. I've been told you've been looking for me? Oh, sorry, this is yours." He put the plate down in front of her and took the seat opposite, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. He, like Dylan, was a good-looking man, with short brown hair and friendly blue eyes. "What can I do for you?"

"I believe you knew my brother, Dylan Thomson?" she asked, picking up a slice of the garlic bread and tucking into it before it could go cold. There was nothing worse, she had discovered, than cold garlic bread.

"Yeah, Dyl and I spent a lot of time together. He told me he had a sister, but he never mentioned you were so pretty," he smiled.

"Thank you, but I am married," she informed him, because in truth, Amber _was_ married, and she was pretending to be Amber.

He held up his hands in protest of his innocence. "I meant nothing by it. Just a compliment. So, what brings you to New York?"

"Bad news," she said, putting down the slice of bread and attempting to look sad. "I'm sorry to have to tell you but my brother died a few weeks ago. He was hit by a driver who was under the influence of alcohol. The doctors told us he suffered no pain."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said, frowning. "I suppose that's why he hasn't replied to any of my emails or texts."

"Yes," she agreed. She had no idea what had happened to his mobile phone, but suspected the twins had disposed of it. It was probably a lump of melted plastic inside a shallow grave. "Anyway, I came here looking for some of his friends, but I believe most of them have moved on, and I have no way of finding them. Max, in the Garden Life bar, said you might be able to help me."

"Of course. I can send all his friends an email, if you like, telling them what happened."

"No!" she said quickly, and then held herself back when he looked surprised by the harshness of her voice. "I mean, I don't want such terrible news to be passed on by email, it's so cold and impersonal." And the last thing she needed was the other members of Dylan's coven being tipped off that he was dead and somebody was onto them. It would only make them suspicious and wary.

"You're not going to go around the whole country telling his friends about his death, are you?" Wayne asked.

"Not all of them, no. But I would at least like to visit the friends he went on his road-trip with. Dylan told me of some of their adventures, and he always spoke very fondly of his time on the road. Sadly, he never mentioned anything but first names to me, and a couple of them evade my memory at the moment. I'd like to visit those people personally, and perhaps advise anybody else by phone. I think it's what my brother would have wanted." Suddenly, she was struck by inspiration, and she continued before Wayne could speak. "And to be honest, my reasons for wanting to do this are also a little selfish. You see, I'm putting together a tribute photo album to Dylan, that I can show to my son when he's old enough to understand. A way of showing him who his uncle was, and the things he loved. I was really hoping to get some first-hand accounts of stories from Dylan's closest friends, and maybe some photos from his trip to go in the album."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Wayne said. "I tell you what, if you can hang around until tomorrow, I can give you some pictures for your album too."

"I would really appreciate that," she replied, with her most practised smile. Hopefully, he didn't find it too eerie. "And if you have any stories to tell, I would happily hear them. Anything I can pass on to my son would be wonderful."

"Sure, I got plenty of stories. If you've nothing better to do tonight, I'll be finishing up here about ten-thirty. I could take you back to my place, dig out those pictures for you, and tell you of some of our wild freshman antics."

"I'd like that. If it's not too much trouble," she added.

"For Dylan's little sister? It's no trouble at all."

"Great."

"Well, I better head back to work now before Franko fires me. If you want to stay here until I'm finished I can ask Tony to keep you supplied with root beer, on the house, but I'll understand if you've got stuff to do and want to come back later."

"I don't mind waiting," she told him. Free root beer? How could she turn _that_ down?

"Alright, I'll be back in a couple of hours, then."

When Wayne left, Ava turned her attention back to the garlic bread. Her meeting with Wayne had gone better than she could have hoped for, and he seemed not to suspect anything was amiss. With a little luck he'd be able to give her everything she needed tonight, and by tomorrow she could continue with her bonafide witch-hunt.

o - o - o - o - o

"And then," Wayne said, barely able to contain his laughter, "Dyl and Cal walked up to this group of bikers, still dressed in the mini-skirts and tank-tops, and asked if anybody wanted to pay twenty bucks for a lap dance."

"That couldn't have ended well," Ava replied with a smile. She was sitting in one of Wayne's armchairs in his apartment whilst he sprawled out on the sofa, a beer in one hand a picture of Dylan and one of his friends in another. He handed the photo over to her; both men were little more than boys, so young and full of life, without a care in the world. How had they gone from that to devilry and witchcraft? How could they be so blind, so stupid? Why hadn't they seen the hook behind the worm?

"Well, we got to see exactly how good the guys were at sprinting. I never thought I'd see the day when a guy could out-run a Harley, but Cal and Dyl did it that night."

She put the photo down on the table, on top of the small pile she had collected from him already. Beneath the pictures was a list of names: _Calvin Hall. Jonny Garcia. Christopher Green. Samuel Richardson. Kyle Dunn._ Their addresses had also been hand-written by Wayne. Each one of them had gone on the road trip with Dylan, and as far as Ava was concerned, each one of them was a probable witch. There was a second list, of names and email addresses, but Ava didn't intend to do anything with those; it was only the people who had been on the road trip and summoned the demon from the book of spells that she was concerned about.

"It sounds like you saw a side to my brother, that I never did," she said. Then, she further improved her ad-lib skills. "After Dylan came home, he was... different. Often quiet, sometimes moody. I think he felt like he didn't fit in there anymore. Like he'd outgrown us, or something."

"Well, you know Dylan. He loved to try new things. He was fearless. Always looking for the next big adventure."

She nodded. That did indeed sound like somebody who might view the apocalypse as an opportunity, rather than a catastrophe.

"Part of me wishes I'd gone along on the road trip," Wayne continued. "But I guess I'm too boring and sensible, because I decided to stay and get educated, for whatever that's worth these days," he added with a wry chuckle.

"I think you made the right choice. The world will still be here, when you've finished your masters. It's not like it's going anywhere."

"True enough. Are you sure I can't get you a beer?"

"No thanks, I don't drink." _Except when pushed into it by arch-angels_ , she added mentally. "Besides, I've consumed enough root beer this evening to keep me wired all night."

"Hah. Sorry about that."

"Don't be." She gestured at the pictures on the table. "How did you all meet?"

"Chris and Sam came from the same town, so they sorta stuck together at first. I met Kyle during my first class, and we met Jonny in the library... he's a short guy and was struggling to reach the top shelf for a book the first time we saw him. Cal and Dylan were in the same classes, of course, and they met Chris and Sam through Cal's brother, who was dating Sam's sister. Kyle, Jonny and I met them in Garden Life during our first week. To be honest, I never thought we'd be friends. Cal... ah... made a disparaging comment about Jonny's height, and he was always sensitive about it, so they got into a fight, and we were all kicked out. But we managed to have a laugh about it afterwards, and became good friends." He took another drink of his beer, and put the empty bottle down on the table, next to two other empty bottles. They'd been talking for a while. "So, tell me about you," Wayne said.

"Oh, I'm sure Dylan told you pretty much everything there is to know about me," she said dismissively.

"One or two things, but I'd prefer to hear about you from you. You're nicer to listen to than Dyl." He gave her a warm smile.

"Well, there's not much to tell, really. Born and raised in Knott, lived there most of my life. My husband, Jerry, and I were married pretty much as soon as I was done with school, and my son, Jack, was born almost a year ago."

"It's good of your husband, to look after your son whilst you do this album for your brother."

She shook her head. "My husband is in Afghanistan at the moment, on deployment. My parents are looking after Jack."

"That can't be easy for you."

"It isn't," she said, thinking of how much Amber had struggled with the responsibility and the worry. And the loneliness, too. Other than her child and her parents, she'd had nobody. All her friends were away studying, her husband was fighting a war away from home, and now her brother was dead.

"Do you ever wish you could go back and do things differently?"

She thought about the question for a moment, not as Amber, but as herself. If she could go back, _would_ she do things differently? If she hadn't restarted the rebellion, the grigori who had died would still be alive. She herself would be up in Heaven, rather than outcast here on Earth. But, strangely enough... she didn't miss home, even a little. Back there she was nobody. Just another Watcher, and she wouldn't even be called upon to fight unless the forces of Hell laid siege to Heaven. Back home, there had been dozens, hundreds, just like her. Silently watching and reporting anything of interest.

Here on Earth she was cut off from Heaven's power, but she had something that she had been missing before; a purpose. Even though she had been rendered mostly powerless, she could still help people. She could still save lives and souls. Here, she made a difference in peoples' lives, and she was perhaps one of the few angels who actually cared about humanity enough to risk everything she had to protect it. And even if most of the humans she encountered didn't know what she was, she herself possessed the knowledge that she was doing good. To her, it felt as if she was doing God's work.

"No," she said. "If I went back and did things differently, I wouldn't be who I am now. And I rather like who I am now. My life might not be perfect, but I believe I am where I'm meant to be."

"That's a very wise view to take."

"Thanks." She glanced at the clock, which read 2am. "It's getting late, I should go, let you get some sleep."

"Are you kidding? I'm not going to let one of my best friend's sisters go wandering around New York at two o'clock in the morning. Please, stay here for the night. You can use my bed, and I'll kip on the sofa."

"That's not necessary, I'll be fine."

"And I'd feel just terrible if something happened to you. Please, for my peace of mind?"

"Well... alright," she agreed. It wasn't as if she could do much of anything at this time of the morning. She would need time to find the other witches, and to assess whether they too were working spells similar to Dylan's. Here, she could at least spend a few hours looking for the men in question.

"Great, let me show you where you'll be sleeping."

He stood up and led her through the apartment, through a door and into a small bedroom where he flipped on a lamp switch. There were various charts up on the walls, most of them relating to chemistry and physics. To Ava, they were like a child's finger-paintings, crude and sloppy. Humans were starting to get things right, but they had barely scratched the surface of scientific knowledge. They hadn't even figured out how to properly bend light around an object to make it invisible, or manipulate time even a little.

"Please excuse the mess," he said, throwing a pair of shorts from the bed into a laundry basket. "Hardly the Ritz, but you can sleep in as long as you like and I promise I won't throw you out."

"Thanks, Wayne," she said.

"Don't mention it."

He hovered by the door for a moment, seemingly debating with himself. Then, without warning, he stepped forwards and brought his lips down to hers, kissing her softly as one hand cupped her face, holding it still. Ava was too surprised to even react, momentarily stunned to inaction. For a wonder, Katie was not mentally objecting to the kiss, but that didn't help Ava, who could only stand there in confusion. She should have seen this coming, but had turned off her ability to detect human pheromones. Perhaps that had been a mistake.

Wayne pulled back and removed his hand from her face, her skin momentarily cooling as the air touched it. "I'm sorry," he said, appearing genuinely guilty. "I shouldn't have done that. You're married... you have a kid. I'm sure Dylan would punch me for that, if he was here. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course," she said. "As far as I'm concerned, it never happened."

"Thanks. I apologise if I've made you uncomfortable. And I promise, I didn't ask you here just so I could make a move on you."

"Wayne, it's fine," she assured him. It had been an interesting experience, yet despite Katie's lack of protests, she had felt nothing. When humans kissed each other she knew it denoted attraction, yet she did not find herself attracted to him. It was something, she suspected, that she wasn't capable of feeling, though she did feel some fondness towards certain humans, such as Bobby, and the Winchesters. "It's water under the bridge," she said, utilising a phrase she had heard humans say many times.

"Alright. I'll leave you in peace. Good night, Amber."

"Good night."

Wayne backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, taking his guilt with him. Ava looked around the room briefly and then sat down on the edge of the bed, so that her body would be comfortable whilst she searched for the remaining five witches. Already, thoughts of Wayne's kiss were being dismissed from her mind, a small and unimportant event that did not affect her in any way.

Closing her eyes, she let her body relax, and began to search.

 _\- o -_


	4. The Hunters and The Hunted

_**Fallen**_

 _ **Book 3:**_ _ **Missing Girls and Mystery Monsters**_

Chapter 4

 _\- The Hunters and The Hunted -_

When the sun began to rise in New York, Ava returned her consciousness to her body, and spent a few minutes stretching her limbs, warming up the muscles of her vessel. Luck had not been with her during her search; the witches seemed to be warded against being spied upon, and though she thought she had detected some sign of Kyle Dunn in his home city, the others had evaded her notice. Either they had figured out that Dylan was dead, and had been made suspicious because of it, or the demon they had summoned had taught them how to evade detection. Possibly both were true.

At least she did have a starting point. Henderson, Nevada, was where Kyle Dunn lived, and though she hadn't been able to detect him at the home of his family, there was a feeling of... _something_... in the city that she just couldn't define. The first thing she would do today, she decided, would be to visit Henderson and observe what was happening there herself. She could then visit Kyle's family and see if he was with them.

She stood up from the bed, took a moment to stretch her legs, and then left the bedroom. The smell of fresh coffee was in the air, and she found Wayne in the kitchen, brewing a fresh batch from beans. His hair was messy and ruffled; he probably hadn't slept too well on the sofa. Ava felt a little guilty for that, and a little guilty for allowing him to believe that she truly was Amber, but it was a necessary deception.

"Morning," he said. "Can I interest you in coffee?"

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "No thanks, I can't stand the stuff."

"Personally, I can't function unless I've had at least three cups in the morning, but to each his - or her - own."

"I think it's time I headed back to my motel room," she said. "I've got some packing to do."

"Ah yeah," he replied, looking a little disappointed. "Your album thing. Any idea where you're off to next?"

"No, not yet," she lied. The last thing she wanted was Wayne calling anybody ahead, to warn them that she might be visiting. "I'll have a look at bus and train times once I've packed, and make my mind up then."

"Here," he said, handing her a blue folder. "I put the info and the pictures in there for you. Should keep them a little safer."

"I appreciate it. And thank you for your help, Wayne. It's comforting to know that my brother had such good friends."

"No problemo. I ah... I put my phone number on the bottom of that list, too," he admitted with a guilty smile. "Just give me a call if you need anything else, or if you're ever in New York again."

"I will, thanks."

"Right. Well. Let's get you on your way, then."

He escorted her to the door of the apartment, and she stepped through it. Despite the fact that she disliked goodbyes, she sensed that Wayne wanted one. Needed one, even. And suddenly, she understood. Humans said goodbye because their lives were so short and frail, that they never knew if this was the last time they were going to see each other. The real Amber might never actually see Wayne, and the night would be nothing but a memory to him. Saying goodbye was a way of ending a chapter... and yet, most humans never actually said _goodbye_. They said, "see you later" and "see you soon", they expressed a desire to see each other again, all the while avoiding the grim finality of the word itself. What strange, contradictory creatures they were.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Amber, and I hope I see you again some day," Wayne said, offering her his hand, which she shook.

"And likewise. Goodbye, Wayne."

She heard the door close behind her as she turned and walked down the hallway to the entrance of the building, but she did not actually leave it. Instead, she ducked beneath the stairwell, where she could not be seen. This was probably the quietest place she would find to teleport.

Just as she was on the verge of dematerialising, words echoed around her head, bouncing off the walls of her skull. It was her name, repeated several times, along with a request for her to appear. But most surprising of all, was that the request did not come from Bobby, or Gabriel, or the Winchesters... it came from Daniel Carver! What in her Father's name could Danny be praying to her for? She closed her eyes, and focused more closely on the prayer. It sounded quite desperate, and she knew he wouldn't be praying to her without good cause. Perhaps it would be pertinent to put her trip to Henderson on hold, at least until she had visited Danny.

She teleported immediately to his side, manifesting fully before him. He was standing outside the RV, which was parked in a large, mostly empty car park just outside a forested parkland, at the forefront of which was a children's playground and a large area set aside for what appeared to be track and field events. His eyes were closed and his hands were clasped in front of him, his eyebrows deeply furrowed as he repeated his prayer, pleading with her to appear.

"What do you require?" she asked, and his eyes flew open as he jumped in surprise.

"You're here! Thank God!" he said. "I wasn't sure it would work... I know people pray to God all the time, but I had to ask google how to get an angel to appear, and I found this wacky site that claimed angels could hear prayers addressed directly to them, and if they were feeling benevolent, they might respond, but I thought it was a long shot at best."

"I heard your prayer," she assured him. Then, she looked at him more closely. His skin was pale, his blue-grey eyes wide and showing concern. His aura had changed; usually blue and quite calm, it was now spiking yellow and green, alternating randomly between panic and fear. What could have driven him to this? "What is wrong, Danny?"

"It's Merry and Pippin," he said, biting his lower lip. "They're missing."

"I thought it wasn't unusual for them to leave you alone whilst they hunt?"

"It isn't, but this is different. Something is very, very wrong, Ava, and I don't know what to do."

"Calm down," she instructed. "Nothing will be achieved by panicking. Take a deep breath." She waited for him to obey, and then nodded encouragingly when he did. "Now, start at the beginning, please."

"Yes, the beginning," he agreed. He turned and opened the RV door. "Come inside, I'll explain it all."

She followed him into the RV and took a seat on a locked trunk as he picked up several newspaper clippings from the bed. He handed them to her and she briefly glanced over them. They were much the same; three bodies had been found mutilated and in parts. Wild animals had been blamed for the attacks... coyotes, the papers suggested.

"You were working this case?" she asked.

"Yeah. I picked up on it after Michigan, and since we weren't all that far away, we decided to check it out. Werewolf was our first guess... the lunar cycles matched up perfectly. My sisters went to examine the bodies and check out the crime scenes whilst I tried to put together a portfolio of attack locations and victims, trying to find a link."

"Did you find the werewolf?"

He shook his head, then brushed his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. "It's not a werewolf. The hearts were all accounted for. Whatever killed the vics, it just snacked on them, chomped some of the limbs and internal organs but left the heart behind. A werewolf wouldn't do that."

"I agree with your assessment," she said, putting the clippings down. "Do you think what killed these people has harmed your sisters?"

"I don't know," he said. "Merry and Pippin were acting... strange. We heard a report on the police scanner that another body had been found, one that had been rotting in a house for a few days. My sisters thought they could get there before the police, and get a proper look at the crime scene before it was ruined by the pigs."

"Pigs?" she asked, confused.

"Sorry. British slang for police. Anyway, I don't know what Merry and Pippin found there, but they got back here pretty fast and said we had to leave town immediately. Told me to pack up the RV whilst they went to take care of some business. They didn't tell me what that business was, but they said they'd only be gone for an hour or two. That was yesterday, at three o'clock in the afternoon, and I haven't seen them since."

"Did you try calling their phones?"

"Of course. I get automated messages telling me their phones are switched off. I also went looking for them, asked around in case anybody had seen them, even went back to the morgue in case they'd gone back to speak to the coroner. It's as if they've just disappeared from the face of the Earth. I'm worried, Ava. I've never seen _anything_ spook my sisters before, but something must have done that, because they would _never_ leave town in the middle of a job."

"Would you like me to see if I could locate them?"

"If you don't mind, I would really appreciate that."

"Alright. Where are we, by the way?"

"Fremont, Ohio."

"Are there any local monsters you're aware of, which could have ambushed your sisters?"

"None that I know of."

"Very well. Give me a minute."

She activated her Watcher vision and looked for the twins. Because she had Watched them before, there should have been an immediate link to them, a thread running from the sisters to her, just as there was a thread which ran between her and Bobby, or Castiel. But when she followed the link she found... nothing. It was concerning, because even if the sisters were dead, she would have been able to find their bodies this way. Wherever they were, they were well-hidden.

"I think somebody... or something... has taken them," she said, allowing her eyes to turn blue again as she switched back to her normal vision. "I should be able to see them, but I can't."

"Why not? Can't you see... y'know... everything?"

"No. There are certain creatures which cannot be seen by angels. The Yuan-Ti, for example. I've never seen those before, and I was only able to detect them using visible wavelengths of light, not by using my celestial vision. As well, there are ways of warding against angels via the use of certain Enochian sigils."

"If even you can't see them, how am I going to find them?" he despaired.

"For a start, you won't do it alone. I will help," she told him. "Can you put this somewhere safe for me?" she asked, handing over the blue folder she had brought from Wayne's apartment.

"Sure. What's in it."

"The fruits of my investigation into the witches."

"I'll keep it with my stuff," he said, and put the folder inside a larger storage box that had all manner of paperwork inside it. "So," he said, turning to face her, "where do we start?"

"I suppose," she replied, trying her best to keep the uncertainty from her voice, "that we must first try to deduce what we are dealing with. We're just assuming that whatever killed those people has taken your sisters. Is this the only case you were working on?"

"At the moment, yeah. We tend to do things once job at a time."

"Has there been any indication that any of our previous adversaries... the witches of Dylan's coven, or the Yuan-Ti creatures... could have caught up with you?"

"No, the Yuan-Ti trail went cold," he said. "We weren't able to turn up anything on the urn, and that Kayleigh girl was released home the day before we left Saginaw. As for the witches... apart from digging up information for you, we haven't done anything about them. I doubt they even know we exist."

"How well did your sisters dispose of Dylan's body?"

"They burnt him to char and then buried what was left as deep as they could. It's very possible that nobody even knows he's dead."

"Then if we want to discover what we are dealing with, and find your sisters, we must retrace their steps. We must go to the places they have been, speak to the people they have spoken to, and hope to find clues of their whereabouts. Did they tell you nothing of what they thought was killing people here?"

"No. And, unfortunately, the list of monsters known to eat people is as long as my arm. All I've been able to determine is that it's not a werewolf, which doesn't really help us, does it?"

"Actually, it does. If we can eliminate what we're _not_ dealing with, then whatever we _are_ dealing with must be whatever is left."

He sighed, but did not look quite as worried as when Ava had first arrived, and his aura was spiking less violently, now. Having somebody to discuss his concerns with, and having plans to make, seemed to have a cathartic effect on him.

"I guess we could go and talk to the coroner," he said at last. "Maybe he can tell us the last time he saw my sisters. They were posing as medical students, so God knows what cover we can use."

"Let's not worry about that just yet. First of all, we need to establish a place of safety for ourselves," she said, looking around at the RV. "This van is too small, too exposed, and whoever took your sisters may be able to follow their trail back here."

"What? We can't sit around worrying about that, we have to find Merry and Pippin!"

"And we will," she assured him calmly. "But we must be sensible about it. We won't be able to help _anyone_ if we meet the same fate as your sisters. Do you trust me, Danny?"

He looked at the floor of the van for a moment. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Good. Now, we need to find somewhere that is safe, quiet, and out of the way, where we can make plans. Are you able to drive the RV?"

"I could _try_ ," he said hesitantly. "But I don't have a license. I can drive cars in the UK... not legally of course... but everything's different over here. It's all on the wrong side."

"Hmm." She eyed up the driver's seat of the vehicle. Katie could not drive, either, so she dismissed her idea of moving the van somewhere less exposed. "I don't suppose you know of any abandoned houses?"

"Sure, tons," he said, and pulled a pile of papers from one of the cupboards on the wall. "These are all abandoned houses, derelict for various reasons; some condemned due to structural problems, some abandoned when their owners died and nobody was left in the will to claim them, some haunted... some _said_ to be haunted but not really haunted. And these are just a few examples."

"What's this one?" she asked, holding up a picture of a modern two-storey log cabin surrounded by dense forest.

"The former home of self-made millionaire Francis Arrowsmith. He sold his manufacturing company six years ago, and he and his wife retired to that house, which Arrowsmith designed himself. A year later they were found dead and rotting by a ranger who'd gone to check up on them, after people in the nearest town - three miles away - expressed concerns that they hadn't seen the Arrowsmiths in a while. Coroner ruled a murder-suicide as the cause of death, apparently Arrowsmith killed his wife and then himself. A family bought the house a few months later but they only lasted a month. They claimed the ghosts of the Arrowsmiths were haunting the building and they sold up. Since then it's had no buyers, and the estate agent has given up trying to keep the forest from taking over it."

"This will do nicely. It will be our base of operations," she said, pleased to have found such a well-maintained building that suited her needs perfectly.

"But... uh... it's in Pierce County, Washington. On the other side of the country. And it's haunted."

"Neither of those are a problem for angels and hunters. Pack up anything you think may be of importance, we leave for our base in fifteen minutes."

Danny spent the next fifteen minutes packing two large carryalls with guns and ammo, knives of different materials, books about monsters, his files on the current killings, wooden stakes, holy water, rosary beads, a bag of salt and a two-litre bottle of gas.

"Bring chalk and paint, as well," she said, and he added those items to one of the bags.

"I think I'm just about done," he said at last.

"Good. Let's step outside so you can lock the van up."

"What does teleportation feel like?" he asked, as he went around all the doors, locking them with his key.

"Like simply being in another place. You can't feel it at all, though you might experience some momentary vertigo as your mind tries to process that you're in a completely different location."

He took a deep breath and picked up both bags from the ground. "I'm ready," he said with a nod.

She touched his shoulder and teleported both of them to the house in Washington. The sky immediately darkened, because of the difference in time zones, and the fact that it was grey and overcast. When she let go of Danny's shoulder he looked around, his mouth open in amazement as he took in the sight of the forest and the house.

"That was incredible," he said. "Instantaneous travel between two points with no jet-lag whatsoever. How do you do it?"

"I can't explain it in terms other than pure maths, at a level which humans aren't currently capable of comprehending," she replied absently. Her attention was focused on the house as she expanded her senses towards it, checking for EMF. There was none, but that didn't necessarily mean that ghosts weren't present, just that they weren't active. "Well, should we go on in?"

"I've never faced a ghost before," he admitted. "I've never really faced anything before. What if... what if I can't do this?"

"You told me that your family have been hunters for generations, and I know for a fact that you have a great amount of knowledge regarding the paranormal. You don't need to worry, Danny. Being a hunter is in your blood."

"I guess you're right," he admitted. "Y'know, all I can think is that I'm about to face my very first ghost, and I wish my sisters were here to see it."

"You should arm yourself with salt," she advised him. "Just in case."

"Right." He put one of the bags on the damp, mossy ground and opened it up. After a moment of rooting around he came out with a shot-gun, and loaded salt rounds into it. "Do you want a gun too?" he offered.

"No, I'm not familiar with them. Besides, ghosts cannot hurt me."

"Do you have some sort of super-power which can kill them?"

She gave him a wry smile. "I wish I did. As far as I know, no angel has power over a ghost like that. They need to be put to rest or have their remains burnt."

"Or the object their spirit is attached to," he added. "Sometimes an important object can tether a spirit to the world."

"Very true. See? Like I said, you're a natural."

Together they walked to the house, and Ava tried the front door. It was locked, but because she didn't want to damage it she allowed Danny to unlock it using professional picks - a skill that every hunter was taught from an early age, he informed her. And when the door finally opened she glanced inside, checking for any sign of ghosts. There was none, so she gestured for Danny to follow her into the building.

What furniture was present had been covered by white dust sheets by the estate agent, and they both spent a few minutes uncovering everything and examining it for damage. There was none at all; the sofa and chairs were of good quality and looked quite new, as did the table and six dining chairs around it. In the kitchen the cupboards held a full set of crockery and cutlery. There was a toaster, a kettle, a sandwich maker, and when Danny tried one of the taps, it ran clear.

"I guess the estate agent was really hoping to get someone in here," he said. "I can't believe they just left all this stuff in an empty house. Do you think it belonged to the Arrowsmiths?"

"Probably," she replied. "Why pay to keep it in storage if you can just put it back in the house where it belongs?"

"Does the kettle work?" he asked. She flipped its 'on' switch, but nothing happened. "Hmm. There should be a jenny out back. I'll go and see if I can get it running."

"Jenny?"

"Generator," he elaborated. "This place isn't exactly on the grid. I doubt I can even get a wifi signal here. I'll be back in a moment."

"Be careful," she told him. He merely waved his gun at her and left through the back door.

Alone in the house, she wandered through the rooms, trying to get a feel for the people who had once lived here. This building must have meant something to Francis Arrowsmith, since he'd designed it himself, so why would he kill himself in it? And why kill his wife? And why haunt it afterwards? Humans were such difficult beings to understand, sometimes, and apparently that didn't end with death. It was a pity they didn't all know that remaining behind, as a ghost, meant becoming violent and twisted. Had all humans known it, none would choose such a fate for themselves.

To give herself something to do and make her feel a little more useful, she began unpacking Danny's bags, placing their contents on the dining room table. It would be useful to familiarise herself with these items, she decided. If she was going to become a hunter - and all indications at this point suggested that hunting monsters was going to be a part of her life on Earth whether she wanted it or not - then she would need to be able to use all weapons available. The Sword of Damocles was powerful, but she doubted it could harm ghosts, and it probably wouldn't be that useful against lowly monsters such as ghouls and zombies.

"Done," Danny said, returning to the room. He picked up his laptop and switched it on. Judging by the frowning expression on his face, she surmised he wasn't pleased about something.

"Do you have wifi signal now?" she asked.

"Do you even know what that means?"

"I have no idea, but it sounds important."

"I don't have wifi, but I can connect through the GPRS on my phone. A high gain aerial wouldn't go amiss, though. The signal's rubbish out here."

"Alright," she said, determined to help her new ally. "Where can I get you one of those?"

"Well, any decent electrical shop should sell them. There's one I've used a couple of times on Westhill Drive, in Maine-"

She nodded in understanding. "I'll be back with an aerial."

"Wait!" he said, before she could teleport. "You can't just take an aerial from a shop. That's technically stealing."

"I wasn't going to steal, Danny," she said levelly. "I have money. Look." She reached into the inside pocket of her coat and pulled out a wad of fifty-dollar bills. Danny stared at it for a moment.

"You didn't rob a bank, did you?" he accused.

"Of course not. I short-circuited an ATM machine."

"Riiight..."

"How do you and your sisters get money?"

"From The Trust. They provide financial backing for hunters who are working directly for them. And since we were the only ones nuts enough to leave England and come here to see what's been happening with the omens, that means we have The Trust's full support."

"You are fortunate," she said. The Winchesters, she knew, resorted to credit card fraud and fixing poker and pool games, to get most of their money. A thought suddenly struck her. "Whilst I am out, I will buy food," she said. "You need sustenance. What would you like?"

"I dunno. I'm not really hungry."

"I understand that worry about your sisters has dulled your appetite, but you have to eat to keep up your blood sugar levels, otherwise you might go light-headed and faint."

He grinned and shook his head. "You know, you say the weirdest things at times. But if you insist, I'll just have a pizza. I don't care what's on it."

"Alright. Whilst I'm gone, could you do something for me?"

"Of course."

"Do you know how to make a devil's trap?"

"A standard trap, or a full key of solomon?"

"Either."

"Yes, I can do both."

"Good. We're going to need a trap at every entry point to this house. Paint them on the ceiling, if you can, it makes them harder to spot. And I'd like salt-lines at every window."

"Are you expecting trouble?"

"No, but it doesn't hurt to be careful." She looked around the room, and realised she hadn't exactly picked the most easily defensible location to be her base of operations. The windows were too large and too numerous. "I'll add some wardings of my own, later. I want this place to be safe from anything and everything."

"Alright, I'll get started right away."

"Good. I'll be back soon. If any ghosts show up, shoot them."

"Yeah, thanks."

She teleported herself to the street in Maine that Danny had mentioned, manifesting in the alley down the side of the building. When she entered the store she saw a couple of customers perusing the electrical goods, and a shop assistant talking with one man who didn't seem to know what kind of adapter to buy for his travels. The counter area was empty, so she approached the store-man who was standing behind it. He wore a blue shirt, and had a badge which read 'My name is Steve, I'm happy to help'. He did not look particularly happy to help. In fact, he looked bored.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"I'd like to purchase a high gain aerial," she said.

"What kind?"

His question threw her. Danny hadn't mentioned there would be _kinds_ of aerials. "I... don't know. Whatever is the highest, I suppose."

"Yeah, but what are you using it for? Analogue, digital, freeview, radio..."

"GPRS," she said. "To make a laptop connect through a phone. Wifi may or may not be involved."

"It's probably not involved. Not if you're trying to connect through GPRS. We've got a few different types in stock. What price range are you looking at?"

"Price is irrelevant. I'd like your best high gain aerial. Which ever gives the highest signal."

"It's not cheap," he warned.

"That's not a problem, I have money."

"Alright. I think I've got one in the store room, let me just go grab it."

She waited patiently by the counter whilst Steve disappeared through a door into another room, and several minutes later he reappeared with a cardboard box in his hands, which he put down on the counter.

"There you go, one high gain aerial, a hundred and twenty dollars. Would you like the extended warranty with that? It's an extra thirty."

"No thank you." She handed over three of the fifty-dollar bills, and accepted the change he gave her.

"Do you want a bag for that," he asked, indicating the box.

"No, I don't have far to go. Could you tell me, is there anywhere near here that sells takeaway pizza?"

"Uh... yeah. There's Express Pizza, a couple of blocks down the road. It's got a red and white awning above the door, you can't miss it."

"Thank you Steve, you've been very helpful," she said.

She left the store, aerial box beneath her arm, and walked down the street, alert for a red and white awning. When she finally saw it she made a beeline for the door and stepped inside the takeaway. Unsurprisingly, it smelt very strongly of cooking food, despite the fact that it wasn't even lunch time yet.

"What'll it be?" asked a man behind the till. He was wearing a dirty apron and a net cap over his hair.

"One pizza with cheese, ham and pineapple, and one garlic bread."

"What sizes would you like?"

"The biggest."

"It'll be ten minutes."

"That's fine, I can wait," she told him.

She entertained herself by reading the instruction manual inside the aerial box. It didn't really make any sense to her, because it was full of silly human abbreviations and technical terms she wasn't familiar with. No doubt Danny would know what to do with it; he reminded her more and more of Sam Winchester every time she saw him. Perhaps it was just because they were both younger brothers, but they both seemed to be quiet, and a little more sensitive than their older siblings.

Once the pizzas were cooked and boxed up, Ava paid the man and left the takeaway, balancing the aerial box on top of the pizza boxes. Fortunately there was quiet alley conveniently close by, and she walked halfway down it before teleporting back to the house. Danny looked over at her arrival, halfway through painting a devil's trap on the ceiling above the front door. He was doing surprisingly well with it, considering he was painting it upside down.

"Looking good," she said, putting the boxes down on the table. "Come and have a break. I bet you haven't eaten since yesterday, have you?"

He rolled his eyes and put down his paintbrush on the lid of the tin. "You're almost as bad as my sisters for nagging. Almost."

"I don't want to give them any reason for berating me once we rescue them," she said. "And I'm sure allowing their brother to starve is something they would berate me for."

"Yeah. Probably." He opened the pizza box and took out a slice, nibbling on it for a moment with no true appetite. Ava, meanwhile, tucked into her garlic bread. "I thought you didn't need to eat," he observed.

"I don't need to, but there are certain things I like to indulge in." She held the box out to him. "Would you like a slice?"

"No thanks, I'm fine with pizza. You do realise that pretty much anything and everything is going to smell you coming a mile away, right?"

"I can be stealthy, if needed," she said with confidence. They wouldn't be able to smell her if she teleported.

"Ava..." Danny said. He hesitated for a moment before ploughing on. "What if we can't find Merry and Pippin?"

"We'll find them."

"But what if we don't?"

She looked at him, and wished she knew the right thing to say. She was certain that Dean would insist very firmly that the twins would be found, and to entertain any other notion was just foolish. And Sam... Sam would say something quietly comforting, to bolster the boy's spirit. Even Bobby would be able to cheer Danny up, even if he had to tell him to stop being an idjit and quit whining. Ava got the impression that none of the words would sound the same, coming from her. She didn't have Dean's hard-headed confidence, nor Sam's natural skills in empathy, nor Bobby's ability to shame anybody into thinking more positively.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I guess we'll just keep looking for as long as it takes."

"I feel so useless," he admitted. "I've been begging them to let me come along on a job for ages. And now I finally have a job... the most important job at all... and I just fell to pieces. I ran out of ideas and I called you. My sisters were right. I can barely take care of myself... how am I going to take care of others?"

"I think your sisters are wrong," she said, taking in his unhappy expression and trying to fix it. "You did all that you could with the knowledge you had at the time, and when you ran out of ideas, you called for back-up. That's nothing to be ashamed of. All hunters do it. Do you think this is hard for you because you're looking for two people? You more than pulled your weight when you were looking for Kayleigh Sumner. But this time, it's your family. It's personal. And we all tend to be more vulnerable where our family is concerned."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said reluctantly.

"Of course I'm right. I'm an angel." She gave him a smile, which he briefly returned. "Eat as much of the pizza as you can manage. I'll take over the devil's trap."

"No. I'd prefer if you didn't." She waited for him to elaborate, which he did. "I'd like to do it myself. It'll give me something to do, and it helps take my mind off... things."

"Alright," she agreed. "You can finish the traps. Once we're safe here, we'll get everything set up and have a look at all we know so far."

He took a deep breath and sat a little taller in his chair. "That sounds like a good plan."

With a slice of pizza in hand, he returned to the devil's trap and began painting again. Ava watched him, and a feeling of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure that she _would_ be able to find the twins, even with Danny's help. Every moment Merry and Pippin were missing was a moment they were potentially in danger and suffering. She knew why Danny wanted to keep his mind busy; he didn't want to think about what terrible things his sisters might be enduring.

Picking up a second paint brush, she began to mark protective signs on the inside of the house, because she too had no desire to imagine what might have befallen the Carver twins.

o - o - o - o - o

Night fell. The lights came on, powered by the generator at the back of the house, illuminating several pieces of paper relating to the killings in Fremont, which had been taped to one of the walls behind the dining room table. At the table itself Ava was watching as Danny set up the new aerial, and Danny kept glancing at the sigils Ava had painted on the windows.

"And they'll really work against angels?" he asked, for the second time in ten minutes.

"Yes. They will stop angels from seeing inside this house, and listening to anything inside this house. But not from entering, because then I would be unable to enter too."

"Why do you think we'll need protection against angels?"

"It's just a precaution," she told him. "There is also an angel-banishing sigil that I can teach you, though it has to be drawn in blood."

"Nice," he winced. "Will you show it to me anyway?"

She nodded, and picked up a pencil and a piece of blank paper. On it she drew a circle, with one large sigil inside it, and several smaller sigils around the edges. "Here," she said, passing the paper to him. "You draw this on a flat surface... a wall or a door or a window, doesn't matter what... and then you press your hand against the sigil in the centre. Any angel within relatively close proximity will be banished."

"Banished where?"

"Usually somewhere else on Earth. An angel banished from an area can't return there immediately. It takes a few minutes for the angel to rematerialise somewhere, and then a few more minutes to recover from the banishing and be able to return."

"So... it's sorta like a demon exorcism, only it doesn't force the angel out of the host?"

"Vessel," she corrected. "And yes, it's a little like that. Less powerful, obviously, but it will buy you a few minutes of protection. And as of this moment, you're one of perhaps only four or five people on Earth who know about the banishing sigil, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread it around."

"Of course not, I promise I won't show it to another soul," he said in earnest.

"How's the aerial going?" she asked. He'd installed the thing beside a window, and had spent the last half hour reconfiguring various different things which she couldn't understand. All she knew was that _something_ was happening between the aerial and the laptop, but the data being transferred was meaningless noise to her.

"Pretty good, actually. I'm just about ready to connect to the net. I just hope we haven't wasted a day that we could have used to search for Mer and Pip."

"We haven't wasted time," she told him. "Think about it; when we find them, we might need to take them somewhere safe. And right now, there are very few places safer than here. Of course, I would have preferred a church, but we were working to a schedule."

"Right. Well, I'm back online. Our secret headquarters now has communication with civilisation," he said with some degree of satisfaction. Ava merely snorted in amusement. His definition of 'civilisation' was wildly different to hers. "First thing I'm doing is pulling up a list of all monsters who have 'eating people' as their M.O."

"It might also help to know which jobs you and your sisters were on before meeting me in Knott."

"Why?" he frowned.

"In case this is a matter of some monster you have crossed previously taking revenge."

"Good point, I hadn't even thought of that."

They fell into silence as he worked, and Ava allowed herself to pick up the information as it was streamed to the computer. The list of monsters which were capable of, or survived by, eating humans, was almost depressingly long. What made matters worse, was that Merry and Pippin must have had some idea about what they were facing when they decided to leave town. And whatever it was, it was bad enough to scare away two knowledgeable and largely unshakeable hunters. Earlier she had tried dream-walking the twins, but to no avail. Wherever they were, they weren't sleeping.

"So... have you got a family, up in Heaven?" Danny asked on a whim.

"All angels are my brothers and sisters," she replied automatically.

"Yeah, but I mean actual family. You know, a husband, kids, that sort of thing."

"No, angels do not have relationships like humans do, and we are incapable of producing children."

"Then how do you make more angels?"

"We don't," she said, looking into his blue-grey eyes. She detected a faint blush on his face, and wondered whether the subject of sex was uncomfortable for him. Some humans, she had observed - especially very religious ones - seemed to treat sex as something to be avoided unless necessary and never, ever talked about. "We have only the amount of angels that God created."

"Oh. That sucks. Have you... y'know... _tried_ to make more?"

"Danny," she said patiently, gesturing at her body, "this is merely a vessel. In Heaven, angels have no physical bodies. Not bodies like these, at least. Sexual intercourse, for the purposes of recreation or reproduction, are impossible. And even when angels take vessels, any copulation that takes place does not result in new angels, merely in unholy abominations called 'Nephilim'."

"So you don't have anything like love, in Heaven? I mean, the feeling of love, not the act of it," he clarified.

She gave it a moment of consideration. Sometimes, humans seemed to consider the feeling and the act two separate things, and at other times, they combined them. It was all very confusing. Verbal communication was so... clumsy, at times.

"Not exactly," she said at last. "As angels, we were created to love our father, and most angels love their brothers and sisters, to varying extents. Then, God asked us to love humanity, which some of us do. In this sense we feel love, but it is not the chemical-induced cocktail of emotions that humans experience, and although we can appreciate something of beauty, we do not experience physical attraction as humans do."

"That's a little sad," he replied. "I mean, you're powerful beings, capable of working what humans perceive to be miracles, and yet you can't even experience physical attraction or romantic love. Do you ever feel like you're missing out?"

"You cannot miss what you do no know," she countered. "In short, the answer is 'no'. I care for my brothers and sisters, and for humanity. There are things I enjoy, such as watching sunsets and eating garlic bread and drinking root beer, and there are things I dislike, such as suffering and chaos and Lucifer. I feel very... fulfilled right now. Why would I want to experience feelings of romance? What would be the point? If I felt them for a human, it would be ephemeral, because your kind have such short life-spans. And if I felt them for one of my brothers, the feelings would only ever be unrequited, because angels cannot love as humans can. Down these two paths I can see only misery, so why even contemplate subjecting myself to them?"

"Alfred, Lord Tennyson, said:

 _I hold it true, whate'er befall;_

 _I feel it, when I sorrow most;_

 _'Tis better to have loved and lost_

 _Than never to have loved at all_."

"Alfred, Lord Tennyson, was not an angel, nor speaking of angels," Ava pointed out. "He was just a man, speaking of the affairs of men. At any rate, this conversation is largely pointless. As an angel, I simply cannot experience some of the things humans can. Even fear is something of an unknown to me, and I do believe fear is a much healthier emotion than love."

"What do you mean?"

"From what I have observed, the former helps to keep you alive, whilst the latter mostly blinds you and makes you do foolish things. In Heaven, I witnessed people, time and time again, ruining their lives for love. Lying for it. Fighting for it. Killing for it. Damning their souls to Hell for it. How could something vouched by so many to be wonderful, be the cause of so much pain and suffering? Such strange emotions, you humans feel."

"Are you sure it's entirely a human thing?"

"Of course. No other species suffers such self-induced anguish."

"Not even angels?"

"That's right."

"Do you love God?" he asked, resting his chin on his hand to look over the top of his computer at her.

"That goes without saying."

"And if God asked you to kill all the humans on Earth to prove your love, would you do it?"

"That would never happen. Humans are my Father's favoured creations."

"Yeah, but this is a hypothetical situation. A thought-exercise. The practicality of it is irrelevant. So... would you?"

 _Kill all the humans?_ she thought. But... God had commanded the angels to bow down before humans. How could he ask her to kill them, just to prove her love for him? Or perhaps asking angels to bow down before humans _was_ a way of proving their love for him. But still, to kill all the humans, to prove her love for her Father... kill humans? No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't work her way past the concept. Why would he want her to kill humans? Why would he do it? He had no need to test angels like that; he had made them to be perfect, and to love and obey him. He would already know of her love for him.

She knew what she would say if this situation was different, and she was advising a human about the subject. She would advise that anybody who asked you to prove your love in such a way, was not worthy of the love you had to give. That the price of your soul was worth far more than any man or woman, whether you felt romantic love for them, or the love of a child for their parent. But somehow, that idea just fell apart when she thought about her own Father.

God would never ask her for such proof, would he? No, of course not. He had tested humans like that before, but that was because humans had souls. Angels did not have souls, so they didn't need to be tested. God knew that his children loved him. They couldn't _not_ love him, because he had made them to love and obey him. Her reasoning came around full circle.

"Hey, are you okay?" Danny asked, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Yes. Why?"

"You've been sitting there in silence for fifteen minutes staring into space. I guess that hypothetical question really got you to thinking."

"Indeed. But I'm afraid I can't give you an answer. No matter how hard I try, I can't think past the idea of God asking me to kill humans. It just... it doesn't compute, as you would say."

"Heh. Sorry, I didn't mean to break your head. Anyway, I've got the list of monsters which like to eat people, and also which jobs we've done recently."

"Are there any monsters which appear on both lists?"

"A couple," he said, shuffling his chair closer to her and turning his laptop around so they could both see the screen. "Werewolves... we killed one a couple of weeks before meeting you, but we've already established that it's not wolves. Second job we did in the US was a wendigo, but that was months ago, miles away from Ohio, and I doubt a wendigo's coming anywhere near somewhere as populated as Fremont."

"I agree. What else is there?"

"Let's see. There's ghouls... we killed one not long after the wendigo, but of course, they feed preferentially on the flesh of the dead rather than the living. I suppose if one was desperate enough, that could be our mystery monster."

"Maybe. What else?"

"From both lists? Nothing. But if you want random speculation from the mile-long list of potentials, we could go for a rakshasa, or any number of pagan gods or spirits, or an over-active tulpa, or a rugaru, or—"

"Danny, stop. I understand you're frustrated, but we have to look at this logically, from all available angles."

"I can't look at it logically anymore! My sisters are out there, being held by only God knows what, and I can't do a thing about it. I feel so helpless and I hate it."

"I know how you feel-"

"No, you don't!" he said, slamming his laptop closed. His aura was red, now, his anger clear to her celestial vision. "You're an angel. You don't feel fear, or love, and I'm guessing you probably don't know worry or hate or any of the other things humans have to put up with on a daily basis. So don't tell me you understand what it's like. Merry and Pippin are the only family I have left. You might have hundreds of brothers and sisters in Heaven, but I don't. Without my sisters, I'm alone. Completely alone."

She sat in silence for a moment, merely looking at him. Dark circles of fatigue ringed his eyes, his aura was now spiking all over the place, and his breathing was rapid and shallow. He was, she guessed, exhausted by worry and almost sick with fear. Though she did not approve of his tone - it was no proper way to speak to an angel - she could understand why he spoke as he did.

"You're right," she told him. "I don't know what it's like, to know that the only family I have may be lost to me forever. And it's true that angels don't feel things as easily as humans. But that doesn't mean that we don't feel _at all_. I have known doubt and worry, and possibly the closest thing to true fear an angel can experience. I might not have been through what you are experiencing right now, but I can understand how it makes you feel." She leaned forward slightly, impressing upon him the seriousness of her words. "Most of my brothers would probably punish you for speaking to an angel with such disrespect. At the very least, they would not hesitate leave you alone, to your own devices. Lucky for you that I am not like most of my brothers, and that I am willing to look past a disrespectful tone because I can sympathise with what you are going through. But remember this; _you_ are the one who summoned _me_ for aid. Your sisters have made it quite clear, on several occasions, that they want little to do with me, and not one of you has done anything to earn my loyalty. I don't expect gratitude, for I've seen that humans are rarely capable of expressing it properly, but I would like you to keep in mind that I am not just some resource that you can call upon whenever the whim strikes you; I am an angel of the Lord. I have countless people to save, and an apocalypse to stop. If my presence offends or angers you, I can resume looking at the bigger picture at any time."

Throughout her speech he seemed to shrink smaller and smaller, until he was all but pressing himself into his chair to try and lean away from her gaze. His aura calmed down, no longer as angry, but peppered with green and yellow of guilt and fear.

"I'm sorry," he said, once he was sure her tirade was over. "I didn't mean to make you angry. I just... sometimes I forget about what you really are. I mean, you're so easy to get along with, and talk to, and your vessel is so young and innocent-looking, I forget that she's not really you, and you're not really her. And I really do appreciate your help. If you can help me find Merry and Pippin and get them back safe and sound, I'll do anything you ask of me."

"You shouldn't say things like that, not even to angels," she warned.

"Why not? It's true."

"Really? Would you kill a child to save your sisters?"

He shifted uncomfortably on his chair. "I don't see how that's relevant to-"

"It's a hypothetical question," she interjected, throwing his own argument back at him. "The practicality of it is irrelevant." When he said nothing, she continued. "One thing I have learned, from my time on Earth, is that your actions always have consequences. Everything you do affects somebody, somewhere. If you're going to take an action, you have to be prepared to accept responsibility for its effects. For example, if you _were_ willing to kill a child to save your sisters, you would have to live not only with the knowledge that you have murdered and taken an innocent life, but you will have to live with the knowledge that the child's family will suffer anguish because what you have done. And you must consider what your sisters would think, if they knew you had committed such a terrible crime. There is more to being a hunter, and more to life in general, than just killing monsters, Danny. You need to know yourself, and you need to know your own limits. You need to set standards and ensure you do not compromise them, because once you betray your morals you are betraying yourself, and that, I believe, is a long, slippery slope." Her own words reminded her of Sam Winchester, and how he had, under the self-deluded belief that he was doing good, allowed himself to be manipulated and controlled by Ruby. He had done terrible, terrible things, which even now racked him with guilt.

"I never thought of it like that before," he admitted.

"Well, you should think about things like this, because one day, you might have to face such a decision."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

She nodded, and smiled to herself. "I've had to do a lot of soul-searching, since I came to Earth. Which is ironic, because angels don't possess souls. But I believe I've come up with some morals and standards for myself, and I intend to adhere to them as much as possible. For example, I believe that if you have to sacrifice an innocent to succeed, then your success is little more than a failure dressed up to deceive you into believing you have won."

"Heavy stuff," he sighed. Then he looked blearily at his laptop, and opened it up again, squinting against the glare of the screen. "So. I'm thinking maybe a pagan god?"

"You should get some sleep," she told him. "You need to rest, and look at this with fresh eyes in the morning."

"What about the ghosts? They might come whilst I'm asleep."

"I will watch over you," she promised him. "Whilst I'm here, nothing will harm you."

"I suppose I _could_ use a few hours sleep," he admitted. "And this house does have two bedrooms, I might as well put one of them to good use. If I'm not awake at six o'clock, will you wake me?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Ava. And thank you for coming, and answering my prayer. I know you didn't have to. I know none of this is important to the apocalypse."

"Thank me once we've found your sisters," she told him.

He nodded and shut down his computer, then headed towards the stairs to the upper floor. Ava watched him go, feeling his own worries weighing heavily on her. She had a very small niggling fear that somehow, the disappearance of the twins might be her fault. It couldn't be a coincidence that this had happened not long after meeting her... could it? Perhaps Zachariah had taken Merry and Pippin to keep Ava occupied, to keep her from trying to stop the apocalypse. The angels would think nothing of kidnapping a couple of humans this way, and it would certainly explain how the girls were being kept hidden.

She could not speak her fears aloud to Danny, though. She did not want to witness the pain on his face if he found out she might be the reason for his sisters' disappearance. She didn't want to have to tell him that he was being punished for her actions. When she had rebelled, and taken a human vessel, she hadn't considered that perhaps the angels would use against her anybody she came into contact with. It was one of the many things she had not foreseen, and she swore that when they got Merry and Pippin back... _if_ they got Merry and Pippin back... she wouldn't stay around humans anymore. It wasn't safe for them. She should have known that a lonely and friendless existence on Earth would be her punishment for rebelling against Heaven.

 _\- o -_


	5. Deadly Secrets

_**Fallen**_

 _ **Book 3:**_ _ **Missing Girls and Mystery Monsters**_

Chapter 5

 _\- Deadly Secrets -_

As Danny Carver left the coroner's office in Fremont, he tried not to be annoyed, but so many things were irritating him. The respectable shirt that Ava had talked him into wearing, along with the shoes she had 'borrowed' from a shop for him, chafed against his neck at the collar, and he hated the way the gel in his hair felt. Despite his attempts to look like a medical student, he knew he wasn't fooling anybody. His voice wasn't particularly deep for his age, and he just looked far too young to be a college student despite the fact that he had impressed the coroner with his use of medical terminology.

It wasn't just the false identity that annoyed him. The coroner hadn't seen his sisters since they had first spoken to him - and talked him into allowing them to see the bodies. Something which both he and Ava hadn't been able to accomplish, despite the angel's best attempts to use what she probably thought were feminine wiles on the older man. It wasn't that she had failed miserably or made a fool out of herself... she just didn't appear to know how to handle certain things. She seemed to think that staring at a person would make him more inclined to do her bidding, when actually it just made her look like she was desperately trying not to blink.

She was also one of the things annoying him, though not on purpose, and he knew it wasn't her fault. She was just infuriatingly calm in her attempts to be logical. With every hour that passed, his worry for his sisters grew stronger, and yet despite how hopeless the situation was becoming, Ava continued to be unemotionally calm, like a frigging android or something. There was no sense of urgency to her, and he got the impression that she didn't particularly care whether they found Merry and Pippin or not.

Ever since their talk last night, she had been even quieter than normal, and he wondered if something had happened to her whilst he had been asleep. When she'd woken him at six o'clock he asked if the ghosts had put in an appearance, but she said there'd been no sign of them. He believed her, because he didn't think she could handle ghosts without making enough noise to wake him, but she was much less chatty today, and seemed less inclined to offer her opinion.

"That was a complete waste of time," he told her, turning to face her. She was wearing a grey pencil-skirt, white blouse and matching grey jacket, and looked quite neat and official. Unfortunately, she had not yet mastered walking in the heels she'd taken from the same shop where she'd stolen his shoes, and now that she was outside the coroner's office and out of the man's sight, she took the shoes off and carried them in one hand to walk barefoot down the street.

"I must unfortunately agree," she sighed. "How do your sisters manage to talk people into telling them things they ordinarily would not?"

"Practice. Lots and lots of practice. But what do we do now? We've already been to the last crime scene, and found absolutely nothing."

"We must have missed something." A frown marred the pretty face of her vessel, and made him feel a little less angry at her. She was concerned, he realise, just hiding it well. And when she spoke again, it was with obvious frustration. "I just wish I knew what we were looking for! I have a feeling that we're missing something of great importance, but I don't know what it might be. We've already checked out the crime scene, and spoken to the last person to have seen your sisters. We've done what any other hunters would do. What are we missing? If Merry and Pippin were here, Danny, what would they do next?"

He thought about it for a moment, but didn't like the answer he came up with. It was a measure of last resort, something his sisters would be loathe to do, and something he wanted to avoid at all costs. Instead, he made another suggestion.

"They'd probably ask you to do that Twilight Bark thing," he told her. "You know, ask the animals around if they've seen anything."

"I can certainly try," she said, though she did not sound convinced. "But we don't know for sure that your sisters disappeared from this area, and the best I can do is a couple of hundred metres around me. Perhaps we should report them missing to the local police, as well."

Danny shook his head. "No way. We try to keep a low profile, stay off the police radar. Out here, we're on our own. We don't have the benefit of The Trust's contacts, so we keep our heads down. Besides, what can the police do that we can't? Whatever monster has taken my sisters, they would be helpless against. And they've already got a handful of murders to be concerned about; they wouldn't give a missing persons report the attention it needs."

"Alright," she agreed. "I'll check with the animals, if you think that's best."

He watched as her eyes turned silver, and studied her face whilst her attention was elsewhere. Sometimes, he struggled to believe that an angel, a being thousands upon thousands of years old, was inhabiting the body of the beautiful young woman standing before him. After meeting her for the first time, he'd dragged up everything he could possibly find about angels, studying the lore, searching the bible for information, even looking at random third-party sites on the web. What people 'knew' about them differed greatly. New age spiritualists believed that angels were helpful and benevolent entities who watched over them personally and offered guidance, whilst traditional Christian schools of belief generally agreed that angels were divine messengers and fierce warriors who mostly only did what God asked of them regardless of whether it was of benefit to mankind.

Having gotten to know Ava more over the past couple of days, he was far more inclined to agree with the traditionalists. Though Ava was pleasant enough, and seemed to care about humanity in general, the way she spoke of her brothers and sisters led him to believe that not all angels shared her beliefs. She'd mentioned that very few angels were on Earth, but she hadn't said that all of those angels were working to stop the apocalypse. Surely, if other angels were trying to stop the end of the world, she would be working with them, wouldn't she? The fact that she had been cast out of Heaven and exiled to Earth probably meant that she was lonely for the company of her own kind, and yet she avoided talk of other angels as if fearful that conversation about them might draw their attention. There were so many more questions he wanted to ask her, about specific angels and events mentioned in the bible, about Lucifer, about the apocalypse... but he knew this wasn't the time for such conversation.

She looked so eerie, so... unearthly... with her silver eyes, and not for the first time he wondered how powerful she truly was. She'd told him she was cut off from Heaven's power, yet the things she could do seemed almost beyond belief. From teleportation to communicating with animals, her powers seemed unlimited, but she had assured him several times that she was _very_ limited in what she could do. Overall, she was a complete contradiction. An old being in a young body. Wise, yet often oblivious and sometimes naïve. Incredibly intelligent, but not always quick to understand.

"It's done," she said, and her eyes changed from silver to blue just as a mother and two of her kids walked past. One of the kids stared at Ava for a moment, but was soon dragged on by his parent. "I've sent a general message to all of the animals in the vicinity, conveying the image of your sisters and requesting information on their whereabouts."

"Thanks," he said, feeling some small measure of relief. Ava's Twilight Bark had worked remarkably well when they had been searching for Kayleigh Sumner, and with any luck it would soon yield more results. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here, Ava."

She nodded in acceptance of his gratitude, and started to walk down the street, seemingly unconcerned by the cold concrete beneath her bare feet, and the strange looks given to her by passers-by. He walked beside her in silence for a moment, wondering if she had any more tricks up her sleeve.

"Will you tell me, now?" she asked suddenly.

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me what you aren't telling me," she said, slowing to look at him as she walked. Despite the fact that she was shorter than him, he felt as if she was looking down on him, judging him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, hoping she would drop the subject. But she didn't.

"One of the things you do not know about angels, Danny, is that we can detect auras, especially auras of people we spend any length of time with."

"Sounds like new-age nonsense to me," he said, hoping to derail the conversation.

"It isn't new-age nonsense, it's scientific fact," she replied patiently. "Do you know what your brain is?"

"Uh... a brain?"

"The human brain is basically a collection of electrical impulses suspended within a conductive cerebro-spinal fluid. The human body is full of nerves and synapses which transmit electrical signals, and angels are _very_ good at sensing and manipulating electrical fields. Humans believe their emotions are nothing more than their internal feelings, but emotion is much more than that. It seeps out from your soul, conveyed on your faces, within the tone of your voice, and reflected by the changing energy patterns of your body. The more familiar we become with a human, the easier they become to 'read'. I know that you are hiding something from me, Danny. When I asked what your sisters would do next, were they here, you concealed your thoughts, and I saw that change reflected in your aura. Under normal circumstances I would not hesitate in allowing you to keep your secrets, but the safety of your sisters is at stake here. I don't know why you suddenly felt... uneasy... but I think you should tell me, so that we can discuss it."

He mentally cringed at her words. If she could read his aura, she probably knew everything he had been thinking and feeling since he'd first met her. She'd know how nervous he felt around her, how he'd secretly fancied her ever since she'd first teleported into the bedsit in Knott, how he wanted to earn her trust and respect, and win her friendship. He thought he'd been doing so well, keeping his crush on her a secret, but she'd probably known all along.

"Please stop feeling guilty," she said. "I can't read minds, only auras. Whatever secrets you and your sisters have are yours alone. I knew from the moment I first met Merry and Pippin that they were very secretive, but I didn't push them into telling me anything they were not comfortable with. Now, I fear we don't have that luxury."

He almost gave a sigh of relief, but then caught himself before he actually did. Avariel didn't know about his crush on her. He was safe, for the moment. One of his worst fears was that she'd find out, and of course she'd find it all very amusing. To think, that a guy like him could fancy an angel - it was laughable! So relieved was he that his secret was safe that he didn't even bother trying to hold back what he had hidden before.

"There's one more thing I can think to do," he told her. He fell silent as a few shoppers walked past, bags of their purchases hanging from their arms, and waited until they were out of hearing range before lowering his voice and continuing. "I could contact the Keeper at the Trust Headquarters in London. The Trust often have access to powerful magics, and they've been known to cast a locator spell, on occasion."

"Why didn't you do this in the first place? It could have saved us a lot of time and effort." There was no irritation in her voice, only genuine curiosity.

"I'm not supposed to contact the Trust myself. I'm just a kid." He wasn't able to fully keep the bitterness from his tone. All his life, people had been telling him that he was 'too young' to go out hunting with his parents or sisters, that he could do it 'when he was older'. And despite the fact that he'd had exactly the same training as Merry and Pippin, the 'when you're older' excuse never seemed to disappear no matter how old he was. His sisters had gone on their first hunt when they were just thirteen years old, accompanying their father on a mission to exorcise a demon. When Danny had turned thirteen, he'd been given a book about subterranean monsters and told he'd have to wait for his first hunt. Three weeks later their father was dead, along with his mother, leaving Merry, Pippin and Grandfather Charlie as the only family he had left.

"I disagree," Ava said. "You're a young man, not a kid, and I believe you've earned the right to contact this 'Trust' of yours."

"They won't see it like that," he said glumly. Already, he could hear Albert's disapproving words in his mind.

"A man would not care about the disapproval of another, if his family safety was at stake," she pointed out. "Besides, your Trust is all the way in England. What could they possibly do to you here?"

"Cut us off," he said immediately. "Revoke our status as Trust members, remove our access to the Trust library, and funding, and all the other resources they have."

"And what's more important to you? Maintaining your links to the Trust, or getting your sisters back?" She stopped walking to look him straight in the eyes, and he felt as if she was peering right into the core of his soul. A flight of fancy, he told himself. "This is one of the things I was talking about last night. You know what might happen if you contact the Trust, and you have to weigh that against the possibility that you might never see your sisters again. I can't tell you what decision to make, Danny, but I promise I will support whichever one you decide. I know what it's like, to have to make hard choices, and face the repercussions, but you won't have to face them alone."

"You already know what decision I'm going to make, don't you?" he asked.

"The same one I would make," she nodded.

"Alright." He took a deep breath, standing a little taller. He could do this. He could make decisions. He could break the rules if it meant finding his sisters. "Then let's do it."

o - o - o - o - o

He had to admit, setting up a secret base of operations in a quiet location on the other side of the country had been a good idea. Already he was coming to think of the possibly-haunted-house as 'home', which was an interesting feeling. Never in his life would he have imagined that he could find a home in any place but England; he hadn't even _liked_ the US, for the first few months he'd been in the country. Now, it was starting to grow on him, just a little. There was something so uniquely... American... about Americans. He just couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"Tell me about this Keeper," Avariel commanded.

Danny hesitated. Not only was he not supposed to contact the Trust on his own, he also wasn't supposed to talk about it with anybody. The identity of hunters and Trust members was something of a closely guarded secret out of necessity. But then again, it wasn't as if Ava was just _anybody_. She was an angel, and she was the only friend he'd made since coming to America. He was fairly sure the usual rules didn't apply to her. After all, there was absolutely nothing stopping her from travelling to the Trust's headquarters and learning all of this for herself. He was quite sure that nobody within the Trust even knew that angels existed, much less how to defend against them.

"His name's Albert Golding," he told her, as he waited for his laptop to boot up. "He's a great hunter, one of the greatest to have ever lived. When he was younger, he travelled all over Europe, learning from other hunters, honing his skills. He took over as Keeper for the Trust in Britain about ten years ago, when he retired from active hunting. I've met him twice. Once last year, at my grandfather's funeral, and two years before that, when my parents died."

"I find the concept of the Trust to be... intriguing," Ava admitted. "How long has it been in operation?"

"Since the dark ages, I guess." He wasn't too sure of the details himself. All he knew was that the Trust was _old_.

"And how are its Keepers chosen?"

"It probably varies from country to country," he said. "In the UK, the current Keeper names a successor, usually a retired and accomplished hunter who can be trusted with the responsibility."

"I see."

The laptop login screen appeared, and he typed in his password and waited for his applications to load. Butterflies danced in his stomach, and he tried to push them away. This was no time to be nervous. Ava was right; with Merry and Pippin missing, it was his responsibility to report in to the Trust, even though he wasn't technically a registered hunter. But his family had always been hunters, which he liked to think gave him some small right to request assistance.

"You can talk to Albert Golding on your computer?" Ava asked.

"Yeah, I can Skype him. Let's see... nearly eight o'clock here means it'll be mid-afternoon over in England. Shouldn't be a problem. But... err... would you mind standing behind the computer? Albert might see you if you're next to me, and explaining... well... you..."

"I understand," she said. She left his side and went to stand beside one of the windows, on which she had painted one of her Enochian warding sigils. He didn't know what that particular sigil meant, but it certainly made her feel a lot safer.

He loaded up Skype and dialled a number from the top of his head. For security reasons, the Trust's Headquarters wasn't saved as a contact on the computer, just in case it was stolen, but every hunter worth his or her salt knew the telephone number for HQ by heart. Now, as the program dialled and began to call England, he tried once more to fight back the nerves in the pit of his stomach. He had every right to call, he told himself.

Just as he thought nobody would answer, the ringing tone stopped and the line was opened. Albert's wrinkled face appeared on the laptop screen, and the elderly man glared at him from behind thick black-framed glasses. Though Albert's sight wasn't what it used to be, his mind was as sharp as ever. Danny tried to swallow the lump of fear in his throat as the microphone in England started transmitting.

"Daniel Carver?" Albert asked, squinting at the screen. His voice was tinny through the laptop's speakers. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Mr Golding," he replied, trying to sound as respectful as possible. Nobody disturbed Albert Golding unless they had good reason to. So far, not even Pippin and Merry had contacted him with an update on the American situation. They wanted solid evidence before they bothered him.

"Why are you calling me, boy?" Albert asked. "Where is Pippin?"

"I'm very sorry to have to contact you like this, Mr Golding," Danny told him, "but my sisters are missing. I was hoping you could perform a locator spell for me."

"Missing? How long have they been gone for?"

"A couple of days. They just disappeared without warning, right in the middle of a job. If you wouldn't mind—"

"What job?" Albert Golding interrupted.

"Just something I picked up in the papers."

"Is this related to those omens your sisters are supposed to be investigating?"

"I don't know," he said, confused. Why wasn't Albert more concerned about Merry and Pippin's disappearance? Why wasn't he trying to console Danny, to reassure him that his sisters would be found? "We'd only just started the job when my sisters went missing, Sir."

"Tell me about the job."

Danny was stunned to silence. He hadn't called Albert to debrief the man, but to ask for his help in locating his family. Why couldn't Albert just do the damn locator spell and let him go? Finally, he found his voice. "Several bodies have turned up, torn to shreds, bits missing, as if something's been feeding. There's no connection between the victims, and all I've been able to rule out is werewolves. Sir," he said, allowing a pleading tone to enter his voice, "I think my sisters may be in real trouble. Please, will you do the locator spell? I have to find them."

Albert did not reply immediately. Instead, he moved closer to the camera on his end, his face becoming larger as he stared through Danny's screen. "Are you somewhere safe?" he asked.

"Yes," Danny replied, frowning. What did it matter where he was? The only thing of importance was finding his sisters.

"And are you alone?"

He managed to avoid looking up at Ava, who was watching him from beside the window. "Yes."

"Listen to me very carefully, Danny," Albert said, his voice quiet as if he feared being overheard. "I am going to wire you two thousand dollars. You will go immediately to the nearest airport and catch the first plane—any plane—out of America. I don't care where it's going to, but as soon as you arrive at your destination, you contact me again and I'll book you a flight to Heathrow. I'll have a driver waiting for you there."

"What?" he asked. His skin went cold, goosebumps rising on the surface, and at the same time he felt an angry heat welling within him. "I'm not leaving America, not until I've found my sisters!"

"I'm sorry, Danny, but your sisters are dead."

He felt his head begin to swim, his vision blurring around the edges. _No_. Albert was lying. His sisters couldn't be dead. They _couldn_ _'t_. They were the only family he had left. As annoying as they were at times, he loved them dearly. He needed them as much as they needed him, and he would rather stay in America alone, searching, than return home to the safety of England and the Trust.

"As long as you are in America, you are in grave danger," Albert continued. His tone was harsh, no sympathy to be found, not even in his ageing eyes. "It's time for you to leave."

"No," he told the Keeper, his voice barely a whisper. Then, more strongly, "No. I'll believe my sisters are dead when I see their bodies, and if they _are_ dead, then I'm not leaving this country until I've given them a hunter's funeral. If you know what has my sisters, then you better tell me what it is, because I'm going to track it down and kill it." He knew that his words sounded violent and boastful, but he didn't care how unfeasible the idea of him tracking down and killing monsters sounded. He wasn't going anywhere until he'd saved or cremated his sisters. And he was so angry, that even the thought of his sisters being killed couldn't bring tears to his eyes.

"It's a family curse, Daniel," Albert said, more gently now that he realised Danny couldn't be ordered or bullied into leaving. "Why do you think you have no family left? It's the curse that's taken your sisters, and if you don't return to me immediately, it will take you too."

Danny briefly looked up at Ava, saw the surprise on her face, and knew it was mirrored on his own. Nobody had _ever_ mentioned anything about a curse to him. The idea was preposterous. Albert _had_ to be lying... but why?

"What curse?" he demanded.

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is your safety."

"If there's a curse on my family, then you need to break it."

"This curse cannot be broken," Albert said quietly. "Don't you think we haven't tried? Your grandfather was a good friend to me, and I watched him try time and time again—and fail each time—to end the curse. But it's hopeless. Come home, Daniel. We can keep you safe."

"Do you truly believe that this curse will take me next?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good! Then I'll be waiting, and I won't be unprepared! Whatever it is, I'll fight it, and I'll beat it, and I'll get my sisters back."

"No. You will die, and the last of the Carver bloodline will die with you. I'm giving you a direct order, Daniel. Get on a plane. Leave America. Come home."

"Or what?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at the white-haired Keeper. "What threat can you possibly make that is worse than losing my sisters and my own life?"

When Albert did not reply, Danny knew he had won, and felt a moment of triumph. Then, a small warning light flickered in the bottom corner of his screen. With two clicks of his mouse he had disconnected the modem, and he pulled the power cord from the back of the laptop, closing the screen.

"Why did you do that?" Ava asked.

"He was trying to trace my location. I should have used a proxy. Luckily, I don't think he managed to get very far in the tracking procedure." Still, he mentally kicked himself for not being more careful. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"I'm sorry about your sisters, Danny," she said quietly.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. My sisters are alive," he insisted. He didn't care whether it was optimism or denial, but he would not, _not_ , believe that his sisters were gone.

"Your Keeper sounded sure of his words."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean he was telling the truth. He was lying about something."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Couldn't you tell?" he asked, looking up to see a lack of understanding in her eyes. "I just... I know he's hiding something. Nobody has ever mentioned a family curse to me before. Don't you think that's strange? And something spooked my sisters, in Fremont. Do you think it's just a coincidence that they disappeared on _this_ job? Why would Albert be so interested in what job we were working, if it was a curse at work? Curses strike usually without warning, and a curse by itself isn't enough to make two people disappear. A curse just summons something to do the disappearing on behalf of someone, or something, else."

"This is why I'll never make a good hunter," Ava sighed, taking the seat at the table next to him and looking a little disappointed. "I told you before, angels lack the instincts humans have. I would have taken what Albert said at face value, and seen no reason to question his words."

"Sometimes you just need to look a little deeper," he told her.

"I guess so. And now, I suppose, we have to look deeper at this case. It seems that in our haste to identify the entity responsible for taking your sisters, we may have overlooked the fact that they are the biggest clue we have."

"My family are not cursed," he insisted. "Somebody would have mentioned it to me, by now."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "If you don't mind me asking, how did your parents die?"

"A boating accident," he said tersely. He did not like the insinuation that his family might be cursed. Albert was lying. He was sure of it. "They were hunting a kelpie in winter, their boat hit a log and capsized, and they died of hypothermia before they could be rescued. Nothing kidnapped them, or ate them, it was just hypothermia."

"And your grandfather?"

"Coronary Heart Disease. He was an old man. He spent the last two months of his life in hospital and died peacefully in his bed. I was there. I watched him go. And my other grandparents are still alive, so there's definitely no curse."

She frowned in confusion. "Your... other... grandparents? But I thought your grandfather was the only family you had, apart from Merry and Pippin? If you and your sisters have additional grandparents, why did you say you are alone?"

"They're not _our_ grandparents, they're _my_ grandparents," he explained, trying to be patient, reminding himself that Ava was still pretty new to humanity.

"I don't understand," she replied blankly.

"Look," he sighed, "there's not much to tell. Their names are Winston and Vivienne Yarwood, and they're civilians. They don't have a clue about monsters, or hunting, they just thought my dad was a long-distance lorry driver, and when their daughter Sarah—my mum—married my dad, they pretty much disowned her. I met them once when I was six and I barely remember anything about them. They didn't even come to the funeral."

"So... you and your sisters do not share the same mother?"

"No. Their mother died when they were two years old. Three years later our dad remarried, to my mum, and I came along a couple of years after that."

"This could be a clue." There was an eagerness in her eyes that had not been there before. "What do you know about your sisters' mother, and their side of the family?"

"Very little. Nobody ever really talked about them. I don't see how it matters anyway."

"Please, Danny, humour me," she pleaded.

He groaned silently, unable to resist her hopeful expression. "Alright, I'll tell you what little I know. Merry and Pippin's mother was called Emma Harper, she was the daughter of Frank Harper, a well respected hunter, and Norma Harper, who was a civilian. Norma died in childbirth, and Emma was raised by her dad to become a hunter. She met my dad, Peter, when they were quite young, and they fell hopelessly in love and got married. Merry and Pippin were born, and for a while, everyone was happy. But when my sisters were two years old, there was some kind of accident. I don't know what happened, but Emma and her dad were killed, leaving my dad a widower. Grandad Charlie—my dad's dad—once told me that my dad was heartbroken after that, and he used to go off hunting for weeks at a time, leaving Merry and Pippin with Grandad Charlie and Grandma Anne. They were hunters, too. It was on one of his trips that he met my mother, Sarah, and eventually they got married, and my mum became a hunter too, though my Grandad didn't really approve."

"Why not?"

"Letting civilians in on hunter secrets isn't really considered a sensible thing to do. In Britain, and in most of Europe, hunters tend to marry other hunters, and it's all more or less a family business. Sometimes civilians join up if they've seen something that they can't forget or ignore, but mostly civilians don't have a clue about any of it. Again, thanks to the Trust."

"So," Ava said, "Merry and Pippin's mother and grandfather died when they were two, and their grandmother died in childbirth. So perhaps it's the Harper side of the family that's cursed, and not the Carvers."

"If that's true, then why would Albert say I'm in danger? I'm not related to the Harpers by blood."

"Like you said, he's probably hiding something. But at least we're making progress. All we need to do now is figure out what kind of curse we're dealing with, and break it."

"Just like that," he scoffed. "Despite the fact that my grandfather, and the Trust themselves, haven't been able to do it. Do you know something they don't?"

"No. I just know that a curse is something we can deal with, one way or another."

He looked at her for a moment, at her newly hopeful expression, and the relief in her vivid blue eyes. If he didn't know better, he'd guess that she was actually _glad_ that his family was cursed. "I don't understand why you're so relieved," he said. "I'd rather deal with a monster than a curse. At least you can kill a monster. Undoing a curse is much trickier."

"It could be worse," she shrugged.

"How?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it does," he said. She looked uncomfortable, and he decided to press the matter. "C'mon, Ava, tell me what's on your mind. I told you when you asked me."

"Well..." she said hesitantly, "I do know of one being that can easily take people and conceal them from me."

"What is it?"

"Another angel."

"I don't get it."

A look of guilt passed across her face. "I had to consider the possibility that other angels had taken your sisters, to keep me occupied in an attempt to prevent me stopping the apocalypse."

"Ahh," he said, understanding dawning in his mind. "You thought it was your fault my sisters had been taken. And now that we're 'just' dealing with a curse, it absolves you of your guilt."

"A little," she admitted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to celebrate your misfortune. I am just relieved that I'm not the one responsible for this situation."

"I understand. I'd feel the same in your position. But why would other angels want to prevent you from stopping the apocalypse?"

"That's a long story for another time," she said. "Right now, we have to concentrate on finding your sisters. Do any of your books deal with the subject of familial curses?"

"Some." He glanced at the pile of musty old tomes on the coffee table by the sofa. There was enough material there to keep them reading for weeks, and even if they found the right curse, there was no guarantee there would be a counter-curse for it. He looked back to Ava, and tried to decide how much he truly trusted her. He had a plan, but it would rely greatly on the angel. "I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"Well, curse or no curse, I'm certain something in Fremont took my sisters. And Albert seemed convinced that I'm next. So I say we use that to our advantage. We use me as bait to lure it out, and turn the tables on it."

"That is a terrible plan, Danny," she said, sounding unimpressed.

"Do you have a better one?"

"Not yet. But given time, I'm sure I can come up with something safer."

"I'll tell you what, then. We'll go back to Fremont, back to the RV, and go with the bait plan. You have until whatever it is shows up to think of something better."

"I really don't think that's a good idea at all. We have absolutely no idea what kind of horrible being this curse has conjured up, and no way to defend against it. You could be kidnapped, or even killed."

He leant forward across the table, pushing out all fear and doubt, to look her squarely in the eyes. "They're my sisters, Ava. They've always looked out for me. I won't do any less for them."

She returned his gaze for a moment without blinking even once, and then nodded imperceptibly. "Very well. I understand. Family is important. We'll do this your way. What should we do first?"

A small sigh of relief escaped his lips, but now that she had agreed to his plan, his nerves returned. Up until now he had been looking to her to lead the way, relying on her knowledge and wisdom to guide him. Now she had just handed over the reins, and he worried what might happen if he dropped them. He realised, though, that he couldn't show how worried and afraid he was. A leader had to be strong and show confidence in their own plans. He just wished he'd paid more attention during his first and only read-through of Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_.

 _\- o -_


	6. Monstrous Family

_**Fallen**_

 _ **Book 3:**_ _ **Missing Girls and Mystery Monsters**_

Chapter 6

 _\- Monstrous Family -_

It was dark outside the RV, the only light filtering in through the cracks in the curtains from the street lights outside. In the cramped confines of the van, Danny's breathing sounded heavy to his own ears, but no matter how hard he tried to slow and quiet it, it was still abnormally loud. If there were any fear-smelling monsters nearby, they couldn't fail to be attracted to the van in Fremont right now.

He told himself that his fear was unnecessary. Ava was actively watching him, and though she was still in Washington she could be here in the blink of an eye. If whatever monster this curse had summoned proved too much for her to handle, she could take both of them away from the van to a completely different place... but of course, that would mean they would lose their only lead they had. Presuming, of course, that the monster even showed up in the first place. Until he discovered what he was dealing with, there was no way for him to predict what might happen.

To help pass the time and calm his nerves, he brought out his second, older model laptop and continued his research into angels. Before meeting Ava and researching the subject, he'd only known the names of two angels; Michael and Gabriel. They were the most famous ones, God's greatest warriors and messengers. Now, thanks to the ubiquitous internet, he knew dozens of names, but he didn't know how accurate they were. Most of his sources couldn't even agree on how angels were governed or structured into hierarchies, or even what 'types' of angels existed. It was all very messy, but of course, angels hadn't been seen on Earth in thousands of years, so it wasn't as if somebody could just ask them about it. At least, not until now, anyway.

Danny hoped that once all of this was over, once his sisters were safe, Ava would stick around and tell him everything she knew about Heaven and angels. He wanted to write it all down. He wanted to be the one to know something first for a change. He wanted other hunters to know about something because _he_ had written it. For once, he wanted somebody to respect and acknowledge his skills, and he wanted Ava to help him.

There was a sound outside the van, a high-pitched scraping noise. He froze, his fingers poised above the keyboard. Maybe... maybe it was just kids messing around, or perhaps a bird skittering around on the roof. But when he glanced at the clock on his monitor and saw it was almost 3am, he dismissed those ideas immediately. Birds and kids were usually asleep by this time.

His ears picked up the sound again, this time closer to the door, and when the handle was rattled his heart began pounding inside his chest. He licked his lips, trying to work moisture back into his dry mouth, and he pushed himself off the bed, backing further into the vehicle. The RV door was locked, but whatever was trying to get in was not deterred. Something heavy pounded against the door, rocking the van, and on the third pound the door handle broke off, falling uselessly to the floor.

As the door opened slowly Danny began to sweat, and a sheen of it coated his forehead, soaking his long strands of hair. A woman stepped into the van, and he stared at her sickening visage. The pupils of her eyes were blood red, her skin a shade of clammy heart-attack-grey. When she lifted a hand he saw long, razor-sharp talons extending from her nails, and she smiled maliciously at him, displaying two rows of narrow, needle-like teeth.

"Danny, get some rope!" Ava shouted. She had appeared behind the monster, and as she spoke she pushed the woman into the RV, slamming her head against one of the high cupboards. The monster gave an ear-splitting shriek of pain and rage.

Danny jumped over the seats, into the front of the van, and pulled open the dash compartment, rooting around for a coil of rope he knew Merry kept there. Behind, he heard the sound of fighting in close quarters; things were broken and smashed, papers were torn down. All he could think was that his sisters were going to be _furious_ when they saw the mess he'd made of the van.

His fingers finally closed around the coiled rope and he turned back to the frantic mêlée. When Ava saw the rope, she ducked a swipe that the monster aimed at her with its talons and stepped forward, grasping the thing's black hair and slamming its forehead into the cupboard again. One, two, three times she slammed with enough force to rock the van, and when she let go the monster slumped to the floor, red blood pouring out of a gash on its forehead.

"Quick, the rope," Ava said, holding her hand out as her vessel inhaled deeply. Danny tossed it to her, and watch as she began to bind the monster's hands. "We're going to need something to use as a gag, too."

"Why?" he asked.

"This is a banshee," Ava explained. "You're very lucky. Had it wailed, you would be dead right now. We can't give it that chance."

He turned back to the dash, searching for a rag, his mind ticking double-time. A _banshee_? What was it doing over here? As far as he knew, the bean sidhe, as it was known in his country, was native to Scotland and Ireland, and rarely left its preferred hunting ground. Better yet, what did a banshee have to do with a curse on his family?

Dirty rag located, he threw it to Ava, who tied it firmly around the banshee's mouth. Now that the monster was unconscious, it no longer looked like a true monster. Its talons had retreated into its fingertips, its skin was a normal pink hue, and its teeth, what he could see of them, looked completely normal.

"What do we do now?" he asked, looking at the still form of the trussed woman.

"Now we need to get this banshee back to HQ for questioning."

"Right," he said. "Err... how do you even question a banshee?"

She shook her head, back to unflappable calm now that the threat was over. "We'll just have to figure it out."

o - o - o - o - o

Ava was taking no chances. The moment she got herself, Danny and the banshee back to the house, she sat the monster on one of the dining room chairs and tied it in place, binding its ankles and its wrists again, and adding another gag to its mouth. Finally satisfied, she stepped back to observe the unconscious creature.

"What do you know about banshees?" Danny asked her, after a few minutes of silence.

"Little, I'm afraid," she admitted. "My expertise regarding the paranormal lies more towards the theological side of things... angels and demons. If this was a demon we were dealing with I'd be much more knowledgable. Unfortunately, banshees are quite rare. Much rarer than vampires or werewolves, so I've had precious little interest in them previously."

"It's alright," he said. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. You're an angel, but you don't know everything."

She gave him a grateful smile. It was good to hear him say that. Humans in general, she suspected, believed that angels should have all the answers. They didn't realise that, sometimes, angels were just as lost as them.

"Do you know anything about banshees?" she asked.

"Just the standard legends. Their wailing is meant to foretell a death, usually of an important or influential man, and they normally follow family lines. I've never seen one before, though." He shivered at the memory of the beast's true face.

"Those _are_ the legends," Ava agreed, "but as usual, they are only partial truths. I do happen to know, for example, that banshee wails don't so much _predict_ deaths, as _cause_ them. Their wail is fatal to a human male, and they are responsible for widowing many women throughout the centuries. In days of yore they ate human flesh - hence the talons and the teeth, for tearing and rending meat - but these days they have adapted to eating any sort of meat. They are strictly carnivores, but other than that fact, they can pass as human, as you can clearly see, which makes them difficult to spot."

"So what do we do now?"

"You should fetch me a glass of cold water from the kitchen."

"Alright. But why?"

"In films, when you wish to wake an unconscious individual, you throw cold water on their face."

"You _do_ realise that not everything that happens in films is true, right?"

"Of course," she said. For example, she knew that there was no such thing as a death-star, and that humans had never landed a space shuttle on an asteroid to blow it up and save the planet.

"So maybe you could just try shaking the banshee."

"Very well," she acquiesced. "Put your ear protectors on."

She hadn't wanted Danny to be present for the interrogation, but he had insisted, so they'd reached a compromise. He could stay, but he would wear a pair of industrial ear protectors, of the type worn by construction workers, which she had stolen for him from a tool shop. Now, if the banshee wailed, he wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Hey, wake up," Ava said, leaning down and shaking the monster by its shoulders.

It groaned, and its eyes flickered open. Ava stepped back, watching as it realised where it was and looked around at its homely prison. When its hazel eyes reached Ava they narrowed, and a vicious smile played across its lips.

"Well," it said, in a voice that purred. "Avariel. It seems I underestimated you. If I'd known you were that strong, I would not have come alone."

"How do you know my name?" she demanded.

"You have your ways of extracting information, and I have mine. Your name isn't all I know about you. Tell me... do you miss your home? Do you miss Heaven? Do you miss your brothers?" The banshee gave her a predatory leer, running her eyes over Ava's body. "You know, it's a shame you're not in a male vessel... I'd like to take an angel for a test drive, see how it compares."

The fact that the banshee knew so much about her was of concern, but she fought back her niggling fears and doubts. It didn't matter how the banshee knew what it knew, what mattered was getting the twins back.

"Where are Merry and Pippin?" she asked.

The banshee smiled. "Last I checked, the Shire."

"Why did you try to kill Danny?"

"Kill him?" The creature looked genuinely surprised. "I wasn't trying to kill him. I wouldn't harm a single hair on that precious boy's head. Well, not now, at least. Everything at its appointed time, right?"

"What does that mean?"

"Tell you what, why don't you untie me, hand over the boy, and I'll show you?"

"I think not."

The banshee shrugged, or at least made the attempt. It didn't quite work out, with her arms being tied to the chair. "Your call." She glanced at Danny. "You can take those earphones off, boy. I won't kill you yet. Not yet."

"He can't hear you," Ava pointed out.

The woman gave a malicious smile. "No, but he can lip-read. I bet you didn't know that, did you? There's lots you don't know about Daniel Carver. Why, some of the dreams he's had about you, they're enough to make a woman blush. Tell me... do angels blush? Why don't we find out?"

"Shut up!" Danny shouted, pulling the earphones from his head and glaring at the banshee with hatred in his eyes.

The monster smiled. "That's better. Now we can talk like civilised individuals. Danny, why don't you get rid of your little pet angel here, and then I'll take you to your sisters?"

"Why don't _you_ tell me about the curse on my family, and then I'll think about it?" he countered.

The banshee laughed, a cold, harsh sound. Ava wondered if that was what she sounded like when _she_ laughed. "Family curse? You believed dear old Albert? How very trusting of you. But you see, Danny, he lied to you, just as everybody has lied to your. Your father, your grandfather, even your sisters. Do you really think they came to this country because they wanted to investigate omens? They fed you that lie with a spoonful of sugar, and you just swallowed it? I can take you to your sisters. I can tell you the truth. What do you say?"

At that moment, Ava realised something. She approached the banshee, pulled back her arm, and punched it in the head. Its body went limp as it lost consciousness again.

"What did you do that for?" Danny demanded. "We need to question it!"

"Yes," she agreed, "but not like this. It can read your mind. That's how it knew so much about you. So much about me. It's all starting to make sense!"

"What about _any_ of this makes sense?"

"Banshees are not one of the creatures which can normally hide from the sight of angels. It must have read Merry and Pippin's minds before taking them, and prepared a place like this, a place warded by Enochian sigils so that I could not find your sisters. It would have been easy enough for them to learn how to do it, any mid-ranking demon knows how to keep angels out. And it's been reading your mind ever since it woke up. That's how it knows about Albert, and about your dreams."

He cringed at her words, a guilty blush colouring his cheeks. "Yeah, about those..."

"Think nothing of it," she told him. "What you dream is your business, and it's private. You have no need to explain."

His aura settled down a little at her words. "Thanks. So... what do we do about the banshee now? I don't think it's going to answer any of our questions."

"I think you're right," she said. "We may have to torture it."

"Have you ever tortured anything before?"

"No, but I've seen it done. It used to be one of humanity's favourite pastimes. You people torture yourselves and each other on a daily basis, physically, mentally, emotionally. And in some places it is still used as a method of interrogation."

"Maybe there's another way."

"I'm open to suggestions," she replied.

"I think Albert knows more than he's letting on. A _lot_ more. The banshee said he had been lying to me. That my whole family had been lying to me."

"It could have been saying that to make you angry, to make you want to go with it," she pointed out.

"I know. But I think Albert can tell us what we need to know, without torture."

She nodded. It sounded sensible... _if_ Danny could get Albert to tell him the truth, of course. He hadn't seemed particularly inclined to do so last time, but maybe this time would be different. The puzzle was starting to come together, all they needed Albert to do was provide some of the missing pieces. Preferably Merry and Pippin-shaped pieces.

"Very well," she agreed. "You prepare your Skype, I will gag the banshee again."

"I don't think Skype's going to do it this time," he said. "I think a face to face meeting would be better." He gave her a guilty smile. "I hate to ask anything else of you, you've done so much already..."

"I will take you to your Trust's headquarters," she said before he even asked. "What is the address?"

"Baker House, Knightsbridge, London."

"I'll just ensure the banshee is securely bound and gagged, and then we'll go and pay the Trust a visit," she said.

o - o - o - o - o

Baker House was a large red-brick building built in the Georgian style, all symmetry and angles, sunlight streaming in through the rectangular windows. It had once been the home of a wealthy industrialist, who had bequeathed it to the Trust upon his death. Legend said the house had been haunted, and that the hunter who had rid the home of its spectre had requested no payment except the house itself when the owner no longer had use for it. Danny didn't know if the story was true, or whether the Trust had merely bought the house a hundred years ago and used it as their headquarters ever since. He'd never been inside the builidng before, so as soon as Ava teleported them both inside one of its libraries, he looked around, taking in the plethora of books lining the high shelves. This place was a goldmine of information. Hundreds of years' worth of information was stored here, to be doled out whenever the Keepers deemed it necessary. The power they held was immense.

"Perhaps we can find a book about banshees here," Ava said. She was walking around the room, studying the book spines. She ran her finger along one of the shelves, possibly checking for dust, but it came away clean. No self-respecting Keeper would allow dust to collect on his books regardless of how rarely they were used.

"Yeah, maybe," he said, but he wasn't getting his hopes up. He didn't want to find a book. He was fed up of reading, of doing research, of sitting idle whilst shit hit the fan. He wanted to act. To _do_ something.

The library door swung suddenly open and two people stepped into the room, each brandishing a handgun. Danny lifted his hands to show they were empty, and tried not to panic. He'd hoped to find Albert alone, but this wasn't entirely unexpected. The man and the woman - he dressed in a navy blue suit and she in a grey skirt and blazer with a white blouse beneath it - were Albert's assistants. Danny didn't know their names, but he could tell just by looking that they knew how to use the guns they were holding, and that they wouldn't hesitate in using them if they thought it necessary to defend the Trust.

"Who are you, and how did you get in here?" the woman asked, her voice as icy-cold as the blue eyes which stared at him from behind her narrow spectacles. She looked a little like one of the librarians from his home town, and he might have smiled at the familiarity, if it wasn't for the gun that was trained on his head.

"My name is Daniel Carver, and I've come to see Albert," he said, measuring his voice to keep it calm.

"Stop moving!" the man shouted at Ava.

The angel was still walking around, studying the shelves, and she seemed not to have noticed the two armed humans who had burst into the room. Now, however, her gaze came up, her head turning to survey the newcomers. Her deep blue eyes were focused, and as Danny watched, she disappeared, reappearing immediately right in front of the pair. Before they could even consider firing their guns, Ava reached up, touching their foreheads with the first two fingers of each hand. Their eyes rolled up into their heads and they both sank to the floor, their guns dropping out of their loose grips.

"What the hell did you do?" Danny asked, remembering to close his mouth as he stared at the unmoving figures.

"They are sleeping," she replied calmly. "Their guns would not have hurt me, but they could have killed you. Don't worry, Danny, they'll wake up in a couple of hours."

Once again he was reminded of just how much he didn't know about angels. He'd had no idea she could put people to sleep. What that a skill inherent to all angels, or just her? How long could she make somebody sleep for? Could she also wake them up again? Her skill obviously didn't work on monsters, because she'd had to punch the banshee to knock it out. For the moment, though, he had greater concerns. He dragged the assistants to one side of the room, and stooped down to collect his guns. When he stood up and looked at Ava, he found her facing the door, watching an old man who was standing there in silence. The man's eyes were the only thing that moved as he took in Ava, Danny, the guns Danny now held, and the unconscious people stretched out on the floor.

"Daniel Carver," Albert said at last. He stepped into the room, past Ava, walking towards the empty fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back like a patient school teacher. "I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon. Or at all. I must say, I'm pleasantly surprised."

"You shouldn't be," he replied, holding up the guns, both of them trained on Albert. The old man barely even acknowledged them. He probably thought Danny wouldn't have the gall to use them. But he would. If Albert didn't tell him _everything_ he wanted to know, then by God, he would shoot the man. Not fatally, of course. Just in the foot, or the arm.

"Can I offer you a piece of advice?" Albert said. Danny nodded. "The next time you feel the need to break into a building, disable the alarm system first. You tripped a PIR attached to a silent alarm."

He glanced up at the corners of the room, and saw a small, black sensor nestled above a book shelf. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I wanted to find you. To talk to you. We're going to have a conversation that's long overdue."

"Are we?" There was a ghost of a smile on Albert's lips, and his eyes flickered briefly to his assistants. "Tell me, how did you get back to England so quickly? And who is your lovely companion?"

"I'm not a banshee, if that's what you're thinking," Ava said.

"If you were a banshee, you wouldn't need to guess at what I am thinking," Albert pointed out. "No, I don't think you're a banshee, or a demon, because no demon can breach these walls, and I suspect no test I can perform on you will yield any results." He turned back to Danny. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"What? Are you joking? I'm here for some damn answers, not to attend your bloody tea-party!" he said, an angry scowl crossing his face.

Albert seemed completely unmoved by the outburst. "Of course I'm not joking. You have two weapons trained on me, you have broken into what is one of the most secure buildings in the country, and you have successfully neutralised two highly trained, armed individuals. I simply thought that since you are going to ask your questions, we might at least talk over a cup of tea like civilised human beings. Really, Daniel, being in America seems to have turned you into some gun-slinging primitive barbarian."

"I don't want your tea," he growled. It would probably be laced with sedative anyway. "I just want answers."

"Very well. But first, tell me how you learnt about the banshees."

" _Banshees_?" he said. "As in... more than one?"

"Considerably more."

This, Danny decided, did not bode well. He'd hoped that the banshee they'd caught was the one who had taken Merry and Pippin for its own purposes. But if there were more of them, working together... he was quickly coming to realise that he might be in over his head, even _with_ Ava's help.

"We captured one," he said, attempting to stand a little taller, a little straighter. He couldn't show his worry. "Right now it's bound somewhere safe. One way or another, we're going to get it to tell us what it did with my sisters."

"And then you will die," Albert said. There was a calm certainty in his old eyes. He let out a small sigh, then glanced once more at his sleeping assistants. "But I can see that I have no choice, so I will tell you everything you need to know."

"Thank you."

Albert gave him a condescending smile. "There, see? I knew there were some manners left in you somewhere. But before I continue, I will tell you this, Daniel. Should you, and your sisters, by some miracle survive, you can no longer consider yourselves a part of this Trust. You have disobeyed my direct instructions, placing not only yourself and this woman with you, but our entire organisation, in grave danger. You will receive no further funding from us, and you will be without our protection for the rest of your probably short lives."

Danny looked to Ava, who was watching him from behind those beautiful blue eyes. She gave him a small nod of encouragement, and he swallowed his fear, pushing it away. Ava was right. He wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man. And a man did whatever he needed to do to protect his family. The Trust was not as important as it thought it was. He'd seen that, now. Hunters in America managed just fine without a Trust. He, and his sisters, could cope on their own. They could make new allies, like Ava, and they could forge their own future.

"I don't care," he said. "I'd rather be cut off from the Trust with my sisters than a member of the Trust without them."

"If that's the way you want it," Albert said. He tapped his chin with a long, arthritic finger. "Now, where to start. I suppose the present is as good a time as any. Your sisters, Daniel, are not human. Well, not _entirely_ human."

"What are they?"

"Banshees," said Albert. "About one quarter banshee, actually. Mating with human males is how the banshees propagate their species."

"I don't believe you," he said, his heart beating double-time in his chest. Albert _had_ to be lying. "Don't you think I would have noticed, if my sisters were monsters?"

"No. Because it was a secret kept from you, and because your sisters are not full banshees. Not yet. You see, mating with a human is not the only part to it. When a banshee is born, it is born with the latent abilities of a banshee - some limited telepathy and the ability to control the minds of human men - but it has to be activated fully. The banshee mother must feed the father's heart's blood to her infant child, to complete the transformation."

"But Merry and Pippin's grandmother died during childbirth," Ava spoke up. "Their mother was never transformed."

"Norma - the name Merry and Pippin's mother went by - was a monster, and Frank, their hunter grandfather, was sent to kill her. They fought, and she wounded Frank. She should have killed him, but she didn't. Instead, she chose him as her mate. Used her mind-control to woo him, and convinced him that he loved her. He took her to his home, and then they did something that no human and banshee had ever done before. They got married. Emma was born two years later.

"But Norma wasn't like other banshees. There was something different about her. Despite the fact that she was a monster, she fell in love with Frank, and it was that love which made her realise she couldn't carry on living. She knew she would be driven by her own nature to kill her husband and tear out his heart, feeding the blood to her daughter, and she couldn't stand the thought of that. So, whilst her daughter was taking her first breath, she asked Frank to kill her.

"I was there, that night, and I never would have believed my own eyes and ears were it not for the fact that I was present to witness it all. Frank refused to kill Norma. Said he loved her, and they'd find a way around their problems together. But she wouldn't take no for an answer. Her last living act was to use her mind-control on Frank, forcing him to end her life, an act that she hoped would save her daughter from her own fate."

Albert paced in front of the fire several times before continuing. "It seemed to work. After he had gotten over the loss of his wife, Frank raised his daughter, Emma. He taught her how to hunt. Of course, the Trust watched her closely, for any sign that she might turn into a banshee, but she never did. The curse, it seemed, was broken. Emma lived a normal life, for the most part. Frank confided to me once that she wasn't like other girls. She sometimes seemed to know what men were thinking before they thought it. She could predict their actions. It made her a damn good hunter, a damn good investigator, but we knew that her skills were a lingering effect of her mother's blood.

"She met your dad, Peter, when she was twenty-two. I knew Peter, and I knew your grandad Charlie. The whole Carver family were good friends of mine. So when Peter Carver and Emma Harper decided to marry, I didn't object. Frank told me that Emma had told Peter about the curse, and we all thought we'd heard the last of it. Your sisters were born, Danny, and for two years the family were happy. Then, everything went wrong."

"What happened?" he asked quietly. If this was to be his sisters' fate too, he needed to know.

"The other banshees had lost track of the Harpers, after Norma killed herself, but they tracked Emma down. They considered it a crime that she had never been turned, and they were determined to turn her into one of them, to further increase their numbers. They kidnapped Emma, took her to Frank's home. There, they butchered Frank, cut his heart out whilst it was still beating. That's one of the requirements; the father's heart still has to be beating, whilst the blood pours out of it. They held Emma down and spilled her father's blood into her mouth, and even though she wasn't an infant, she changed.

"That was one of the worst nights of my life. After she changed, the banshees sent her home, to do to her daughters what had been done to her. I think she didn't want to do it, but it was in her nature. She was _driven_ to it. When she got home, she attacked Peter, slashed his arm with a knife. She would have killed him, but not for the fact that Charlie was there too, visiting his grandaughters. He managed to fend Emma off and she fled. Charlie called me over, and we wrapped Peter's arm for him, told him to take his daughters and drive to the Trust headquarters. We would have gone with him, but we knew our hunt was only just beginning.

"We found Emma in her father's house, looking down at his body. She didn't put up a fight. We killed her, and cremated her on a pyre with Frank. And as we stood there, watching their bodies burn, we agreed that we had to keep a close eye on Emma's children. We knew that, one day, the banshees would come for them too. Even though their mother hadn't been turned when she gave birth to them, we knew that they might be under the same curse as their mother.

"Most of the rest, you already know. Peter was devastated. He couldn't bear to look at his daughters. He left them with his parents and disappeared, hunting around Britain on his own. Eventually he met your mother, Daniel, and he learnt to love again. He returned home and took his daughters back, and became a family once more. When the girls were ten, Peter told them what they were. He told them what might happen to them one day. But he promised he would take care of them. He promised he would do everything he could to keep them safe. And he did. He and Charlie, and Charlie's wife Anne, moved to another town, where they could be closer together, where it would be harder for the banshees to find them.

"For years they were safe. I don't know whether the banshees didn't know where they were, or whether they were put off by the thought of three well-trained hunters - with the backing of the whole Trust - protecting the girls. When your parents died in that accident, Daniel, I'd hoped it would be over. With no father left, there could be no way for the banshees to turn your sisters. But I was wrong."

"What do you mean?" A chill had crept over his skin as Albert spoke. So much of his family history had just been piled onto him, he didn't think he could take any more. But he had to know everything if he was going to save his sisters.

"I never stopped researching banshees," Albert explained. "About six months after your parents died, I came across something. An account written by a travelling priest, many centuries ago. He told the tale of Myra, a woman said to be a witch by the people of the village where this priest was staying. They told the priest that Myra was the second wife of a wealthy Baron, his first wife having died from smallpox after leaving him with a son. Myra and the Baron married, and she fell pregnant. But seven months into her pregnancy, her husband fell from his horse during a deer hunt, and his neck snapped, killing him instantly. The villagers, not knowing what Myra was, rallied to help her. She was heavily pregnant, after all, and left with the Baron's five year old boy to take care of as well.

"Around the time the baby was due to be born, a midwife went up to the house, and what she found there nearly drove her insane. Myra's bed was covered with blood, and an afterbirth had been left behind. And on the floor beside the bed was the body of the Baron's son, his chest cavity split open and his heart ripped out. They never found Myra, or her baby, or the heart of the boy. Witch, they called her, but I know better than the priest and those villagers. The same blood runs through the heart of a father and his son, Danny. Those banshees don't need your father to turn your sisters into monsters. They can use you, just as Myra used the Baron's son, centuries ago."

"That's why the banshee said she wouldn't kill you yet," Ava told him, but he was barely listening. His insides were a maelstrom of disbelief and confusion. All his life, he had been lied to by his family. And now, his sisters might become monsters, because of him. Now, his entire life was reduced to two choices; kill all the banshees in the world, or kill himself. There was no other way his sisters could be safe.

Albert seemed to read his mind, because he stepped forward and put a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. "Stay here, Danny. Let us keep you safe. The banshees will never be able to get to you with us looking after you, and they won't kill your sisters. Banshees never kill family."

"So they'll just keep my sisters prisoner forever?"

"It's better than the alternatives."

"I disagree," said Ava firmly. "There is always an alternative. Danny and I will kill the banshees and save Merry and Pippin. And _you_ will tell us how to kill a banshee, since you have killed one before."

"Danny, please," Albert begged. "Let us keep you safe. Let me do this one final thing for your family."

"How will you keep me safe?" he asked. "Put me in a room with no windows and one door? Bring me three meals a day and give me escorted toilet breaks?" He could see it clearly, in his mind. If being safe meant giving up his freedom, his life, then he didn't want to be safe.

"It's what your father and grandfather would have wanted."

"No. My dad would want me to rescue my sisters," he said firmly. He lowered the aim on one of the guns. "Now, tell us how to kill a banshee, or I'll shoot you in the foot."

Albert sighed. "Fine. Throw your life away like an ignorant child. When you fail, I am going to have to send good men to kill your sisters. I hope you think about that, when you're trying to play the hero. To harm or kill a banshee, you can't use normal weapons, they're immune to them. What you need is the bone of one of its victims. The sharpened bone of a banshee victim is the only thing that can permanently injure a banshee."

"And your banshee-killing-bones are kept... where?"

The old man shook his head. "It wouldn't matter. They lose potency over time. The bones Charlie and I used to kill Emma would barely even tickle a banshee now. It needs to be from a fresher kill."

"Fine. Ava, let's go," he said.

"Danny, wait. I meant what I said. If you do this, don't expect any further help from the Trust. In fact, don't return to England."

He said nothing, but nodded at Ava. As the angel teleported both of them back to America, Albert's face, his pleading eyes, disappeared from view.

o - o - o - o - o

Fremont's morgue was a cold, clinical place, and at six o'clock in the morning it was also an eerily empty place. Ava had brought herself and Danny straight here from England and now the young man was keeping watch next to the double-doors. Ava was elbow-deep in blood as she used a surgical knife to separate the tendons and sinew from one of the leg bones of the banshee victims. Hopefully nobody would notice it was missing.

"Are you okay?" she asked, glancing at Danny as she worked. He was leaning against the wall, looking through the small round window of the door, arms folded across his chest. His black hoodie, a size too large for him, made him look smaller than he truly was.

"Yeah, I'm great," he said. She suspected he was being sarcastic.

"You _did_ say you'd prefer to fight monsters than curses," she reminded him.

"Well, I've changed my mind. Right now, I'd take a curse." He let out a deep, unhappy sigh. "I should have seen it."

"This isn't your fault, Danny."

"I know. But still, I should have known what was going on. I mean... everything is starting to make a lot more sense. Why my sisters wanted to leave England... to get away from any banshees. Why we work alone, and don't interact with other hunters here... because they're afraid of being called monsters. How they're usually able to talk men into doing something they normally wouldn't, like getting the coroner to let them see the bodies. How they always managed to do things together without talking much, as if they knew what each other was thinking... I thought it was because they are twins. The truth is so simple. Why didn't I see it before?"

"Sometimes, a thing only becomes obvious in hindsight," she said. Then, she felt the femur come loose in her hand. "I've got it," she held the bone up for him to see.

"We're going to need another. One each."

"Danny..." she began hesitantly. He wouldn't like what she had to say. In fact, he pre-empted it.

"No. I'm not staying behind, Ava."

"But even if we _can_ find out where they're being kept, if you come with me, we will be handing you over to them. They'll kill you upon sight."

"Then I'll wear the ear-protectors. And under those I'll listen to Metallica on my mp3 player. If I can't hear them, they can't kill me."

"They might just snap your neck and carve your chest open."

"Maybe. But there's no way I'm being left out of this one. For the past few days you've been telling me that I have to draw lines, I have to make choices, I have to stop being a kid if I want other people to treat me like an adult. Well, this is my line. My choice. Now are you going to stand by what you told me and respect my decision, or are you going to treat me like everybody else has for my entire life, telling me one thing and then doing something different?"

"Of course I will respect your decision, Danny," she said at last. He was right. It was time for him to be allowed to grow up. He'd earned it. Though she suspected that he and his sisters were going to need some _serious_ therapy to get past all of this. "Do you want a femur, or a humerus?"

"A femur. Safer with a longer reach, right?"

"Right."

She pulled a different body out of cold storage and resumed slicing. It was the first time she had seen a human body in this much detail, and it was a fascinating thing. Ridiculously complex, but somehow it all seemed to work, mostly. Blood-carrying tubes here, tendons there, muscle and sinew and different organs, all operating in unison to keep the humans walking, talking and breathing. All it took was for one piece to break, and the whole thing stopped working. Angels were much simpler. Much less complicated.

Second femur retrieved, Ava teleported back to Washington with Danny in tow. The banshee was still unconscious - she must have hit it harder than she thought - so she and Danny spent an hour cleaning and filing down the bones. Ava used the strength in her hands to break off the epicondyles, leaving behind sharp edges which could be used as a piercing weapon.

"We still need to find Merry and Pippin," Danny said, looking at the unconscious banshee.

"I will get the information from it," she assured him. "You shouldn't be here."

"Oh, so you can torture something for information, but I can't?"

"I did not say that," she said tersely. She did not like it when people jumped to conclusions about her motives. "But that thing can read your mind. You are a liability."

"I didn't think of it like that," he admitted. "I guess you're right. I'll just go and do some research or something, I guess."

"Actually," she said, struck by a moment of inspiration, "there is something you could do which is of more use than research."

"And what's that?"

"Take a look in the forest around the house. We haven't had chance to explore much since coming here, and I think it important to know if there's anything of interest nearby."

"Do you mean _our_ kind of 'interest', or just 'interest' in general?"

"Either."

"Alright. If you think it will help."

He picked up a shotgun and left the room. Ava waited until she heard the front door close, then she approached the banshee. The cut on its head had healed up, leaving not even a small scar behind. This banshee, like all banshees, looked no different to any human being, until it went on the attack. It's what made them one of the more dangerous monsters. They, like vampires, were the wolves in sheep's clothing. Once they had been vicious and brutal, but now they were more cunning. They lived human lives, blending in perfectly, raising their daughters under the guise of tragic widow. They inherited whatever their 'poor husbands' left behind, and they managed to do it without being caught. No wonder they had come to America. The possibilities here were endless.

"Wake up, monster," she said, reaching out to shake the banshee by one of its shoulders.

It groaned and opened its eyes groggily. "You know, you punch like a girl, Avariel," it complained.

"And you take hits like a girl. But I don't have time to stand here trading insults with you all day, so you are going to answer some questions."

The banshee's eyes went to the long, sharp femur in Ava's hand. "Ahh, going to torture me, are you? That doesn't sound very angelic. What would Daddy say?"

"I'm not going to torture you," she said calmly, refusing to be baited. "I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to torture yourself by not answering them."

"If it makes you more comfortable to see it that way," the banshee shrugged. "But you know, if it looks like a duck, and quacks like a duck..."

"Where are Merry and Pippin being held?"

"Mount Doom, I think. Try asking the orcs."

Ava plunged the sharp edge of the bone down into the banshee's thigh. A blood-curdling scream escaped its lips, and she was suddenly glad she had sent Danny outside. The screams, as well as the wails, were probably fatal to humans. Luckily, her vessel was protected by her own celestial energy.

"I'm going to ask you again. Where are Merry and Pippin being held?"

"Bite me," the banshee growled, its eyelids fluttering as it tried to handle the pain.

Ava pulled the bone from its leg and thrust it into the monster's shoulder, feeling it pierce the anterior deltoid and rotator cuff muscles before it came to rest against the scapula. The banshee screamed again, this time with much more feeling. Perhaps it finally realised that she was being serious.

"Merry and Pippin are being held _where_?" she asked.

"Get screwed, you virgin-riding self-righteous pansy," the banshee managed to pant.

"I can see this isn't working as well as I'd hoped," Ava said. She pulled the bone out of its shoulder, blood gushing down its clothes. Already the floor was soaked from the wound in its leg. "So I am going to start cutting pieces off your body. I will start with your fingers of your left hand. Then I will take your left eye. Then the fingers of your right hand. Then your right eye. If you still won't talk, I'll cut off your feet. And I will make certain to keep you alive, you understand. You will not die. The last thing I will take is your tongue, so that when I am finally through with you, you will be a blind, mute, fingerless cripple, and you will wish I had granted you death when you begged it of me."

"When my sisters find you, they are going to strip the skin from your body," the banshee hissed. "They'll devour your vessel one spoonful at a time, and they'll make you _watch_ whilst they eat you alive."

"Doubtful," she said. "Now, which finger would you prefer to lose first?" She reached down to the banshee's left hand, and pressed down on the back of it until the banshee was forced to uncurl its fingers. "How about we start with the first little piggy?"

"Wait, wait," the banshee said, as the sharpened bone was lowered towards its hand. "I'll tell you. Just don't cut any bits off me."

"I'm listening. But if I think you're lying, I'm going to take a finger _and_ an eye, so make it convincing."

"The twins are being held in a condemned office block in Fremont."

"The address?"

"Harrison Building, third floor, Park Avenue."

"That's just around the corner from the coroner's office."

"We were hiding right under your nose the whole time," the banshee grinned.

To determine whether it was telling the truth, she engaged her Watcher vision and looked at the building in question. She could see everything except the third floor, which appeared to be a blind spot.

"You'll never get to them," the banshee gloated. "We'll die before giving up our sisters."

"I believe you." She thrust the sharp bone forwards, using her angelic strength to force it through the banshee's ribcage. Blood poured from the monster's mouth, and then the tip of the bone found its heart. When Ava let go, she creature slumped lifelessly in the chair, held up only by ropes.

She regretted that she'd had to kill, but she had no other choice. She could not have let the banshee go, because it would have killed more innocent humans, and she could not keep it caged indefinitely. It was a shame the banshees needed to kill to propagate their species; were it not for that fact, Ava would have been content to let them be. But they were a threat to humanity, so they had to be dealt with.

Plucking the bone from the monster's chest, she looked for Danny, then teleported to his side. It was time to finish this.

o - o - o - o - o

"Do you want to go over the plan again?" Ava asked.

"No, I know what I have to do." He shook the can of black spray-paint in his hands. Ava had been _very_ specific about his role. He needed to find the Enochian sigils that were preventing her from entering the building, and neutralise them. Only then would she be able to enter and help him fight. Only then would she be able to teleport them all away once this was done.

"Good luck, Danny."

"Thanks, Ava."

He stepped into the building through the hole which used to be the back door, and made his way along an unlit corridor. Twice he tripped over loose, raised floorboards, cursing silently each time. This building was old, and in another six months it would be gone, probably turned into yet another parking lot. As if there weren't enough of those in America already.

The corridor terminated in a room, and on one of the walls was a sigil identical to the shape she had shown him. Quickly, he sprayed over it, marring it so that it no longer resembled the anti-angel sigil that was keeping Ava out. His hopes slowly growing, he continued through the building, creeping as quietly as he could whilst moving as quickly as he dared. He found one more sigil on the ground floor, but then he was forced to take the stairs up to the second. They were as old and damaged as the rest of the building, and he almost fell through when one collapsed beneath his weight, but he managed to catch hold of the bannister and haul himself back up.

The second floor was dusty, full of cobwebs, and it smelt of damp. His heart was pounding in his chest by the time he found the next sigil, and he wondered whether sweaty-palmed fear was something common to all hunters, or just him. He couldn't remember Merry and Pippin ever saying they'd been afraid. Mostly they just kicked ass and got the job done with minimal complaints. What would they say, if they could see him now? They'd be pissed, he suspected. Royally pissed.

When he found the fourth sigil he quickly sprayed over it. "Ava, I'm done," he said. The angel appeared immediately by his side.

"Good work. Now, let's find your sisters."

"Ava," he whispered, as she led him forwards, towards the next stairs, "what happens if this _isn_ _'t_ the right building. Maybe this is just a decoy."

"Then we'll keep looking until we find your sisters. We haven't come this far to be thwarted now. If you have doubts, save them for a more appropriate time, because they are not a constructive thing for you to be feeling."

He took a deep breath, and took her words to heart. She was right. He needed to stop acting like a frightened kid, and act more like a hunter. It's what he was. He'd proved that much with everything he had done over the past few days.

"Alright. I'm good," he said. "Let's do this."

"Put your music and your earphones on."

He sighed, but complied. He pulled his mp3 player from his pocket and started playing Rammstein - it was louder than Metallica - and then took the ear protectors from around his neck, clamping them down over his head. Certain he wouldn't be able to hear _anything_ , he nodded to the angel.

He followed her up the stairs, and they walked quietly down yet another corridor. Open door after open door they passed, until they found one which was closed. He looked at Ava, and she nodded. He held up his hand, giving her a count of three on his fingers, and when he reached 'one' she kicked the door with enough force to send it flying off its hinges, a loud _bang_ indicating it had hit the far wall. Ava was first into the room, and first into the mêlée of monstrous, angry women. Danny got chance for only a brief look around - he noted some Enochian sigils on the walls - before he too was accosted by a razor-toothed, taloned woman who slashed at him angrily.

He jumped back and pulled the long sharp femur from where it was tucked through his belt, holding it as he would a dagger or a knife. Parrying the next strike the creature aimed at him, he slashed quickly at its hand, and was rewarded with a line of blood appearing across its palm. Unfortunately, that only seemed to anger it, and it jumped forwards, closing the gap between them, making it more difficult to stab with the bone. Instinctively he kicked out, sending the monster staggering backwards, and he used that brief reprieve to check on Ava. She was dealing with three banshees, but she seemed to be coping by teleporting around them at random, confusing them as she stabbed and slashed with her blood-soaked weapon. And, at the far side of the room, he caught a glimpse of two blonde heads. Merry and Pippin were tied back to back, gags over their mouths, and they watched the chaos through groggy grey eyes.

The next instant he was forced to concentrate once more as the banshee in front of him renewed its campaign. He didn't think it was trying to kill him, because it didn't stab its talons towards any vital areas, but it did seem to be trying to wound him. It managed to slash the back of his left arm and he cried out in pain, but he ignored the burning sensation of his injury. When the banshee drew back for another strike, he stepped forward, allowing it no quarter, and thrust the sharp end of the femur into its abdominal cavity. The monster's warm sticky blood ran down his hand, and its eyes grew dim as its life left them. When he pulled the bone from the banshee's stomach, it fell to the ground and did not move again.

Another glance at Ava showed him she was down to two banshees, so he ran across the room to his sisters and tore off the ear protectors, stashing his mp3 player back in his pocket. He reached for the knife tucked down the inside of his boot, then cut through the gags on his sisters mouths, ignoring the sound of fighting from behind.

"Merry, Pip, are you okay?" he asked.

"Bashtards... drugged ush..." Merry slurred, her head lolling slightly to one side.

"Keep still, I'll cut you free." He tried to work out the best way of freeing his sisters' hands without cutting them too.

"Is that Ava?" Pippin said, squinting at the continuing mêlée. Thankfully, she was down to one banshee now; the bodies of the others littered the floor. "Man, she's awesome. We should invite her to rescue us more often."

Merry giggled at her sister's words, and Danny wondered what the hell the banshees had given to the twins, to make them this loopy. When he realised there was a cessation of noise from behind, he looked and saw the last banshee twitching on the floor in its death throes. Ava stepped over it, and approached the family. Her clothes were spattered with blood, but he didn't think any of it was her own.

"We need to hurry, Danny," she said. "There may be more banshees nearby."

"Got it," he said, feeling the rop binding his sisters finally break free. "Mer, Pip, can you stand?"

"I can stand a lot of things," Pippin said, shaking a finger at some imaginary person in front of her, "but I can't stand up."

"It's better to lie down," Merry agreed. She toppled from her upright sitting position, landing in exactly the same pose on the floor. "Hey, everything's upside down."

"It's alright," Ava assured him. "I can teleport them to one of the beds in the house."

"House?" Pippin asked, her eyes suddenly looking a little brighter. "Are we going home? I'm so tired of America now."

"Yeah," he lied, because he thought it was what his drugged up sister needed to hear. "We'll be home before you know it."

 _\- o -_

* * *

 _Author's Note: Here ends Book 3 of Fallen. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Apologies for the delay in ending it, but I wanted to see if anybody would notice if I suddenly stopped the weekly updates. Is there another book planned? Certainly. I even have the first 1.7 chapters already written. Unfortunately, I lost most of my work after that during the Great Hard Drive Crash of 2014. I'm trying to recover what I lost, but it's hard work, and not helped by the fact that I haven't watched any Supernatural in the past couple of years. I feel like all of the lore is falling out of my head._

 _I'm advised by one of my readers that there are now grigori in Supernatural. I haven't seen any of that yet, so please don't spoil me if you have! And rest assured, Avariel (and the remainder of the grigori I intend to introduce in my fic) will be much cooler than whatever is in the show right now._

 _Thanks for reading._


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